Finally Noticed
by Romano.in.disguise
Summary: Arthur Kirkland is a successful lawyer in Philadelphia, living alone with his five year old son, Alfred F. Jones. When he takes the case of Francis Bonnefoy, a Frenchman battling his ex-wife for custody of their son, Matthew Williams, will this lead down a road of uncovering the past and healing both their broken hearts?
1. Chapter 1

This is a FACE family fanfic. There will be a fair amount of flashbacks and light angst, but mostly FrUk fluff

Chapter 1: My son's clone

" _Another bloody day."_ Arthur Kirkland thought as he trudged up the steps into his home in the late hours of the niqui ght, finally home after a long day of work as a lawyer. Arthur Ignatius Kirkland walked slowly through his home, loosening his tie and setting his briefcase down before walking into the study, mentally preparing himself for the paperwork he would have to work on. A blue blanket with a tuft of blond hair peeking out on the couch in his study caught his eye, and he eased the blanket away, careful not to wake the sleeping boy on the couch. The boy had blond hair with a cowlick and bright blue eyes, currently behind closed eyelids. He was five years old, loud, friendly, with a cheerful personality and a smile cute enough to make even the most frigid heart melt. Arthur's son, Alfred Foster Jones. Arthur gently scooped Alfred up, carrying him to his bedroom. As he set him down on the bed, Alfred's eyes fluttered open.

"D-d-daddy?" Alfred whispered, his words being interrupted by a massive yawn.

"Yes poppet it's daddy. Now go to sleep it's quite late. You shouldn't have tried to wait for me." Arthur whispered back, trying to sound stern but failing due to the large smile stretching his face.

"I… just… wanted to see you." Alfred mumbled, blinking his sleep clouded eyes at his dad. "Goodnight daddy, I love you." he said, falling asleep immediately.

"Goodnight Alfred, I love you too." Arthur whispered, kissing his son's forehead and exiting the door, softly shutting it. He opened the door to his study and sat at his desk, preparing to sort through the cases that he was assigned to see which ones he would do. He thumbed through the cases, stopping when one caught his eye. He gasped and brought the picture closer to his face. In the middle of the information about his client there was… Alfred? Upon closer inspection the photograph was proven not to be Alfred, with this boy having slightly longer, lighter hair and light purple eyes. Arthur was intrigued about this case, took out the folder. Grabbing his reading glasses, he began to comb through the file. The case was nothing new, just a custody battle. But it was the clients that interested Arthur.

 _Name: Francis Bonnefoy_

 _Nationality: French Republic (République Française)_

 _Age: 25_

 _Gender: Male_

 _Birthday: 7/14/1991_

 _Reason for requesting lawyer: Wife is filing for divorce and he is filing for custody of son (see page 6)_

There was more information on Francis listed below, but Arthur's eyes had wandered to the attached photograph of his client. The man wasn't bad looking, with shoulder length blond hair and beautiful blue eyes that sparkled in the light of the camera.

" _Oh he's actually pretty attractive. No no no bad Arthur. He may be pretty but he's also FRENCH, and on top of that, a client. Now why the bloody hell is his son an actual copy of mine?"_

Arthur quickly flipped to the page that had first captured his eye, the page with Alfred's twin.

 _Name: Matthew Williams_

 _Nationality: Canadian_

 _Age: 5_

 _Gender: Male_

 _Birthday: 7/1/2011_

 _Relationship to client: Son of Francis Bonnefoy and Emillise Williams. Ms. Williams is filing for divorce from Mr. Bonnefoy for unknown reasons, and both are requesting custody of Matthew._

" _Bloody hell. This will be a tough fight for the French bloke. Mothers are more likely to receive custody in the first place and on top of that you are single while it says that she has a new partner to raise the child with."_

Arthur decided to accept the case, and pulled out his laptop, cracking his knuckles and tapping out an email to Francis.

Dear Francis Bonnefoy,

Hello Mr. Bonnefoy, my name is Arthur Kirkland and I will be your lawyer in the custody battle over your son, Matthew. It is pretty hard to win these types of cases but I will do my best to help you. There will need to be additional details however, and these are best exchanged in person and not over email.

Regards,

Arthur Kirkland


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

(A/N all that is being spoken between Francis and Matthew in the following chapter is in french i'm just extremely lazy and don't feel like translating)

While Arthur was going through the papers in his office, Francis was lying awake, unable to sleep.

The Frenchman tossed and turned in his king sized bed, now all alone. In the privacy of his own home, he let the tears that could not be shown to others fall. Francis sat on the edge of the bed, head in hands, body shaking with silent sobs.

 _Why?! What have I done to deserve this?! I gave everything to that woman. I moved away from my beloved homeland to be with her. I left my family, my job, my friends, all for her happiness. I was always faithful, poured my heart and soul into that relationship. I try hard to be a good father to Matthieu, I really do. Did I say anything when she said that the spark was fading? Non. L'amour runs its course after all. I gave even more, if that is possible, to make it work, to rekindle the fires of romance. And she took all the love I gave her, and stabbed me in my heart. Now she wants to take my precious away, and for that I will not stand._

At that Francis got up, pacing the room in agitation, hands pulling at his long, honey colored hair.

 _Emillise, do whatever you want to me. But if you even try to take Matthieu away, consider yourself dead._

He took his phone off of his bedstand and checked it, hoping for news about the case. Just as he sighed in defeat and was about to turn off the phone, it vibrated, startling him.

"Shit!" he hissed, and checked his email. His annoyance at being startled quickly disappeared when he read it, and he wasted no time typing a reply.

Francis got back into bed, wiping away the tears so they would not be seen tomorrow. Nobody must know how much her betrayal had hurt him. The soft padding of footsteps reached his ears, and he rolled over, facing the entrance to the bedroom. The heavy oak door creaked open, and a light poke to the side caused Francis to open his eyes. A little figure in red and white pyjamas clutching a stuffed polar bear half his size stood there, cheeks streaked with tears.

"P-p-papa?" a soft voice stuttered. "Can I sleep with you tonight? I'm scared."

"Of course Matthieu." Francis answered, shifting and pulling away the covers to make room for the child. Matthew crawled in and burrowed into Francis's side, still scared from his earlier nightmare. Francis stroked the child's soft hair to calm him down, slowly bringing him closer to sleep.

"Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"Will people try take me away from you and make me live with maman?"

"They can try all they want, but you are staying here with me." Francis responded firmly, no trace of the doubt he felt in his voice. Matthew relaxed, curling up and clutching the polar bear, along with Francis's arm, tightly.

"Good." he whispered, voice tinged with sleep. "I want to stay here with you. I love you Papa."

"I love you too, Matthieu. My wonderful boy."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Allison the pretty princess

The annoying ring of Arthur's cellphone broke him out of his dreams. He reached out an arm and groped for it blindly, knocking quite a few items to the floor.

"Hello?" he answered, his British accent thicker than usual due to being tired.

"Bonjour iz zis ze Arthur Kirkland residence?" An unfamiliar, thickly accented voice that Arthur did not know asked.

"Yes this is Arthur Kirkland speaking and may I ask who the bloody hell is calling so early in the morning?" Arthur snapped, angry at being woken up.

"Early in ze morning? Que? Non, it iz one in ze afternoon. And zis iz Francis Bonnefoy, your client. In ze email zat I sent, I said zat I would call around one."

Arthur sat bolt upright in bed, annoyance forgotten. _Shit that was a client. One in the afternoon?! Crap._

"Allo?" Francis asked after a couple moments with no reply, afraid that Arthur had hung up on him.

"Yes i'm terribly sorry about that I did not have a chance to read your reply and as you can see, i'm not the most polite after I wake up so again, pardon my rude behavior."

"Oh mon dieu did I wake you up? Je suis tellement désolé!" Francis exclaimed. "I guess I will leave you to have your day in peace and we can discuss what was in ze email later. Au revoir!" he hung up. (I'm so sorry)

Arthur kept the phone to his ear for a couple moments after, processing what just happened.

 _So I snapped at him, and he apologised? For what? Sure he woke me up but it was a perfectly reasonable time to call. At least I hope whatever he said in French was an apology. I don't know French! Even so I could barely understand him when he spoke English. That accent is bloody annoying… I think._

Arthur unlocked his phone, smiling briefly at the lockscreen, which was him kissing a beautiful lady as she held baby Alfred in her arms. He swiped through all the apps on his phone before tapping on his email and waiting for it to refresh. Scrolling through the emails, he found one that was sent yesterday from Francis.

Dear Mr. Kirkland,

Thank you so much for agreeing to help us. I have looked over what will help me get custody of my son and it says that you need to inspect my home to make sure that I can keep Matthieu there. That, along with all the things that need to be discussed, can be done over dinner yes? I would like to invite you to dinner at my house so you can perform the inspections and we can talk. Is this Saturday at 7:00 alright? I can call you at about 1:00 on Saturday so you can say if you are going to be there or not, and so you can tell me the details about the inspection. Again, thank you so much for agreeing to help, and I look forward to meeting you in the future.

Sincerely,

Francis Bonnefoy

Arthur read through the email quickly, replying that he would be there, and answering any questions Francis might have about the inspection. As he was preparing to drag himself out of bed, he noticed the time Francis's email was sent. 12:37 am. Just mere minutes after Arthur sent the first one.

Arthur walked downstairs, rubbing his eyes as the bright sunlight streaming through the windows shone in them.

"DADDY!" A voice shrieked, before Arthur felt something slam into his stomach, making him fall back onto the steps and knocking the wind out of him. He gasped for air as Alfred jabbered excitedly, hugging him tightly. "Good morning! You slept for so long! I watched some cartoons and I built an awesome block castle!"

"Yes yes good morning to you too." Arthur said weakly, recovering from another one of Alfred's death clutches.

"OY! THA SLEEPING BEAUTY RISES! ABOUT TIME YE LAZY PIECE O' SHITE!" a loud voice with a strong Scottish accent yelled through the house.

"ALLISTOR?! FOR THE LOVE OF THE QUEEN WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE YOU WANKER?!" Arthur screamed, face rapidly colouring. "Alfred cover your ears. For the love of god please don't repeat my words."

Alfred laughed, but covered his ears and replied. "You were asleep so I called Uncle Allison so he could make me food and play with me."

"MY NAME ISN'T FUKIN' ALLISON!"

Arthur picked up Alfred and walked into the living room, and almost dropped him because of the sight that greeted him. "I told you I built an awesome castle!" Alfred happily chirped. Arthur's older brother was tightly tied to a chair with several jump ropes, with walls of toy blocks surrounding him. To top it all off, there was a fluffy pink tiara on perched on Allistor's flaming red hair.

"A wee bit o' help o'er here, brother dear?" Allistor grumbled, raising his head to look at Arthur. Arthur only laughed harder, fishing his phone out of his pocket to take a picture.

"Yeah daddy you gotta be the dragon so I can slay you and save the princess!" Alfred said.

"I'M NOT A BLOODY PRINCESS." Allistor yelled, straining against his ropes. Alfred jumped out of his father's arms and grabbing a toy sword, running toward the "castle". Alfred chased the "dragon" around for a while, swinging his sword around while destroying the wall of blocks, hitting Allistor a couple times by accident. The five year old finally fell down, tired.

"It's past your lunchtime lad. How about you start cleaning up and i'll order some pizza?"

"I'd be happy ta do tha', if A CERTAIN BROTHER UNTIED ME."

Arthur laughed and began picking at the jump ropes, untying the tight knots while Alfred cleaned up the mess he made. After about half an hour Allistor was freed. The Scotsman stood up, stretching.

"I'll go order tha pizza." He mumbled, dialing the number for a nearby pizza place and walking to the kitchen.

"You still have that ridiculous tiara on your head!" Arthur called to Allistor's retreating back. Allistor paused, put a hand on the doorframe and replied.

"I'm a bloody princess, o' course I have a tiara."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The bad touch trio reunite

(Lucille is Monaco, Michelle is Seychelles, and Marianne is nyo!france idk why I made her younger tho. Apologies if i got any french words, grammar whatever wrong)

Francis woke up to a dimly lit room, the wine colored curtains of his window casting a purple glow on everything. He sat up, stretching, and looked at the sleeping form curled up in a mini nest of blankets. _Aha that's who stole all the blankets in the middle of the night and left me to freeze._ He thought, his lips curling up into a gentle smile. Matthew was sound asleep, clutching his stuffed bear, his golden hair spread in a halo around his head. Francis got up, careful not to disturb Matthew, and walked into the adjoining bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, dreading the day.

 _Another day of pretending that everything is ok. Like my heart hasn't been torn apart. But the heart will heal… eventually._

He grabbed a brush and ran it through his hair, wincing as the bristles snagged at small knots. He absentmindedly ran his fingers over the small roses carved into the handle, a reminder of his homeland. He missed France so much it hurt. Sure, spending five years in Canada was semi-tolerable, especially since everyone there spoke French, even if it was Canadian. He missed walking along the banks of the Seine river, gazing at the skyline of Paris at dawn. He missed his friends that he left behind in Europe. He missed his little sisters, Lucille, Marianne and Michelle. Closing his sky colored eyes, Francis let himself fall back into memories.

" _Francis! Attends-moi!" (wait for me) His sister, Lucille, pouted, crossing her arms and trying to look as stern as a six year old could. Eleven years younger than Francis, who was the oldest of four children, she was unusually serious, something that Francis and nine year old Marianne loved to tease her about._

" _Tu es si lent!" (you're so slow) Marianne whined, stopping to wait for her sister, retying her shoes, a few strands of hair escaping from her ponytail to bounce around her face. Seventeen year old Francis turned around to face his sisters, one year old Michelle held securely in his arms. Michelle giggled, grabbing a lock of hair that had fallen out of Francis's own ponytail._

" _Dépêchez-vous!" (hurry up) Francis sighed, tapping his foot impatiently. He hadn't seen his two best friends in forever, and they were all bringing their little siblings. But of course they had to choose today of all days to crawl at a snail's pace._

" _Dis ça á elle."(tell that to her) Marianne responded, nodding at Lucille, who had caught up with them._

" _Luciiiiiii~" Francis sang, getting down on one knee to be at her level. "Dépêchez-vous s'il vous plaît ou nous ne serons pas là à l'heure." (Hurry up please or we won't be there on time)_

 _Lucille stuck her nose in the air and turned around with a huff, still bitter at being left in the dust. "Non." she sniffed._

" _D'accord." (Ok) Francis placed Michelle on the soft grass and scooped Lucille up, sitting the stubborn child on his shoulders. She yelped and wrapped her arms around Francis's head, alarmed at the sudden change. A giggling Marianne picked up Michelle, and began to jog to a grove of trees, where a group of people were gathering. Francis laughed and stood up, beginning to also head in that direction while holding onto Lucille's legs to make sure she didn't fall._

" _Francis! Oh dios mío when the hell did you grow two heads amigo?!" one of Francis's friends shrieked._

" _Antonio you dummkopf zhat's his little schwester!" Another voice shouted._

 _Francis set Lucille down, and she quickly ran off to play with the other children. "Bonjour mes amis!" he yelled, running forward to greet them._

 _The three friends met together in a messy group hug, which they had a fair amount of trouble getting out of. "Oh 'ow 'ave you been? I 'ave not seen you guys in cinq mois!" (five months) Francis asked, switching to English, the only language that the three of them had in common._

" _Vell, Vest und I managed not to get kicked out of our new appartment, und ve adopted a new dog." Gilbert, a loud albino from east Germany, (or Prussia as he insisted), replied._

" _How in the world did you manage to get kicked out of the previous one?" Antonio, a kind and always happy Spaniard, asked._

" _Apparently my awesome mild parties are not allowed. Vhat a buzzkill."_

" _Gilbert zhat vas not a mild party!" Gilbert's girlfriend, Elizaveta, a pretty Hungarian, piped up._

" _It vas too! Und mein awesome head still hurts from jour skillet."_

" _I had to coax jou down from ze statue somehow! Jou vere drunk out of jour mind!"_

" _I vos being awesome!"_

" _Jou vere clinging to ze statue yelling 'GILBERD VHILL INVADE JOUR VITAL REGIONS!'" at this Antonio and Francis burst into laughter, and Gilbert hung his head._

" _I don't even know vhere I got zhe statue…" he mumbled._

Francis sighed, remembering how they used to cause so much trouble together. They had been friends since they could remember, and remained friends to this day, although they were all living in different countries. He opened his eyes to check the time and found that he had been lost in memories for well over an hour, and it was now time to start making breakfast. Francis made his way down to the kitchen, planning to make Matthew's favorite food, pancakes, or crêpes, for breakfast. As he was setting out the ingredients, his laptop, which was sitting on the counter buzzed with an incoming video call. Clicking accept, he was greeted with a split screen of Antonio's and Gilbert's grinning faces.

"Hola amigos!" Antonio said, waving his hands frantically.

"Oh mein gott Francy-pants mein eyes!" Gilbert shrieked, covering his eyes. "Vhat in zhe vorld are jou vearing?!"

"Quoi?" Francis asked, looking at his French flag print sweatpants and "Paris Je t'aime" tank top. "What ze 'ell is wrong with my clothes? Keep in your tiny mind zat we are six 'ours behind you."

"Oh that's-a why you are dressed like-a the tomato bastard picked out your clothes." A gruff Italian voice commented from the background.

"Lovi!" Antonio beamed, and dragged his husband into the frame. Lovino Vargas-Carriedo, Antonio's husband of three years, sputtered and attempted to detach the Spaniard from his arm. Francis laughed at the Italian's antics, and moved around the kitchen, mixing the ingredients for the crêpes in a large bowl.

"Bonjour Lovino! Comment ça va? Ze same to you Gilbert and Antonio!" (How are you?)

Lovino merely growled, still trying to free himself from the clutches of his affectionate husband. Gilbert grinned and responded without sounding like an animal.

"Alles ist gut. Vhat about jou Frenchie?" (All is good)

Francis waved a hand and redirected the question back to Gilbert. "Same 'ere mon ami. Now 'ow is your lovely girlfriend?"

Gilbert's grin dropped off his face, and he looked down, his pure white hair hiding his face from view. "Elizaveta iz no longer mein girlfriend." he said, voice cracking like he was trying to hold back tears.

They all gasped, and Francis felt the bowl beginning to slip out of his arms.

"QUOI?! What ze 'ell 'appened? Oh mon dieu c'est horrible!" Francis exclaimed.

"S-she iz not mein girlfriend anymore… because…" Gilbert said shakily, then took a deep breath. "BECAUSE SHE IZ GOING TO BE MEIN VIFE!" He screamed, head snapping back up and joy in his eyes. A whirl of brown hair obscured the camera for a few seconds, and when it cleared away, it showed Elizaveta and Gilbert kissing. They broke away after a second, and Gilbert shoved Elizaveta's hand up to the camera to display a large diamond on her ring finger. "SAK EET LOZERS!" he yelled, and turned to his fiancée. "Ich liebe dich Lizzie."

Lovino and Francis squealed, and began to congratulate the newly engaged couple. After a few minutes of chatter about the engagement, only resulting in Lovino screaming that if Gilbert "EVER SCARE ME LIKE-A THAT AGAIN I WILL-A TURN YOU INTO PASTA YOU ALBINO POTATO WITH LEGS" once. Francis cheerily flipped crêpes in the skillet, throwing and catching them like a professional.

"Bonjour papa." Said a small voice, and Francis turned his head to see a just awoken Matthew standing on the stairs, rubbing his eyes. "Crêpes?" he asked hopefully, lifting his nose and sniffing.

"Oui. Viens saluer Gilbert, Elizaveta, Lovino, et Antonio." (Yes. Come greet…)

"Bonjour!" Matthew chirped as he scrambled up on the counter. Francis handed him a crêpe with blueberries and maple syrup, Matthew's favorite. "Merci." he began to munch on it, waving to the people on the screen.

"Ciao Mattie. How are-a your English lessons going? Oh mio dio please tell me you don't-a have a horrible accent like-a your father." Lovino asked, seemingly horrified at the prospect of Matthew speaking like Francis.

Matthew attempted to respond while eating a crêpe, which failed miserably. Wiping his son's mouth, which had maple syrup all around it, Francis took the opportunity to respond.

"Excuse-moi, my accent iz not zat bad. Matthieu understands a lot of English, but alas speaking is a different story! Matthieu, why don't you show what we 'ave practiced. In your best English s'il-vous plaît."

Matthew looked at Gilbert and Elizaveta, who nodded in encouragement. "H-h-hello Lovino. 'Ow are you? My English lessons are going well. Zough I understand a lot more zan I can say." He said rather shyly, with a thick French accent.

"Zhat vas sehr gut! Alzho I zhink zhat jou should learn ze great language zhat iz German first."

"You dumb potato what will German help him with? He needs to learn Italian." Lovino proclaimed.

"Or Español!" Antonio chimed in.

"Oh mon dieu by ze time zat my son grows up I would not be surprised if 'e knows all ze languages you mentioned, just from talking to my friends. Now I must go, I 'ave to clean ze whole 'ouse."

"For what reason amigo? Surely you can stay and chat a little longer no? Please?" Antonio asked, looking at the clock.

"Non I can not. Au revoir!" Francis sang, shutting the laptop.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Artie's also a pretty princess

Arthur stood in front of the mirror in the hall, checking his appearance. Suddenly an arm wrapped around his neck, and he was forced into a loose chokehold.

"BLOODY HELL ALLISTOR LET ME GO YOU TOSSER!" Arthur yelled as his hair was messed up and Allistor laughed.

"O hell nah! I got tae wish me wee brother luck on his date!" Allistor teased. Arthur threw his brother off, and stalked off to the kitchen.

"It's not a bloody date. It's a meeting with a client and a house inspection, and said client happened to be kind enough to throw dinner into the mix. Also I don't think I could ever go on another date after what happened." he said, pain filling his voice at the last sentence. "Besides," he continued, tone becoming brisk "I have a five year old son. And I haven't even met this Francis fellow for crying out loud."

The normally cheerful Scotsman grew serious, and he laid a comforting hand on Arthur's arm. "I know this is hard for ye, but ye need tae move on." he muttered, his voice sorrowful.

"I'll move on, but i'll never forget. Now if you excuse me, I must get going or i'll be late. Call me if there's an emergency. And by emergency I mean something serious happened."

"Oh ye know me what's tha worst tha can happen." Allistor responded, removing his hand before his brother had the chance to slap it away.

"Oh I don't know what about that time when you and the twins set the house on fire. WITH ME INSIDE."

"THA' WAS FIFTEEN FOKIN YEARS AGO AND YOUR REACTION WAS WORTH IT. besides twas only tha kitchen you just overreacted."

Arthur turned around with a huff and walked to the living room, finding Alfred on the floor, surrounded by crayons. "Alright Alfie i'm going to go to a meeting with someone ok? Uncle Allistor is going to stay with you. I'll be back a bit late, so don't try to wait for me like you did the other night. Have fun and call me if Allistor is being more of an idiot than usual."

"I HEARD THA'!"

"Shut up you know it's true. Now come say bye to daddy."

Alfred finished drawing and sprang up, hugging his father tightly. "Bye daddy!" he chirped, crushing nearly all the air out of Arthur. He released him after a couple seconds and ran back to his drawing, holding it out to Arthur. "Look I drew our family!" he said, looking up into Arthur's face, joy all over his own.

"T-that's lovely. Why don't you run along and tell Uncle Allistor to hang it on the fridge?" Arthur said, a small smile crossing his face as he ruffled his son's hair. "Bye Alfred."

As Arthur got into the car, he drove about 15 minutes to the address that Francis had sent him, reminding himself to drive the American way. When he first moved to Philadelphia seven years ago he nearly got into an accident the first day. As he turned onto a small street, he was greeted by a beautiful house.

 _No way that's where this bloke lives._

Arthur thought as he parked the car. He double checked the address and yep that was it. Arthur walked up the short path to the door, admiring the roses that lined the stone path. The air was sweet with their smell, the roses in clusters of different colors, from light green to deep red.

 _This Francis fellow might not be bad. I mean props to anyone that has the time and patience to manage such a beautiful garden. Now all that's left to do is see if my analysis of character based on garden is correct._

Arthur looked at the stained glass panels on either side of the door, admiring how the light reflected off them.

The Brit raised his fist and knocked three times on the door, chuckling as he saw that the peephole was designed in the shape of a blooming rose. A voice and some shuffling was heard, and a couple seconds later the door opened. Arthur stared at the empty space, wondering how the door had opened on its own. A slight cough was heard, and Arthur looked down and saw Matthew, who had opened the door. Green eyes met light violet, and there was silence for a couple seconds. Arthur snapped out of his shock at the boy's peculiar eye color and squatted down to the boy's level.

"Hello there. Where is your father?" Arthur asked in a soft voice. Matthew stared for a few seconds, and Arthur began to worry.

 _Oh shit is this the wrong house? No I double checked the address. Did I say something? That's absurd I only asked where this boy's father is._

Eventually Matthew understood, mouth opening into an o shape.

"Un moment." he said softly, holding up one finger. "Papa! Quelqu'un est ici!"(someone is here) he called behind him. He received a shout of something Arthur could not understand in response, and Matthew opened the door a bit more, stepping to the side to allow Arthur to enter.

"Do you speak English at all lad?" Arthur asked, concerned about the boy's earlier behavior. As he opened his mouth to reply, the pattering of footsteps was heard, and Arthur straightened up. A man came into view, and Arthur was rendered speechless for a few heartbeats. Sure he had seen a picture of his client before, but that was not enough preparation for meeting him in person. The man was just a tad taller than Arthur, with wavy honey coloured hair, currently tied back with a ribbon, a few locks flying loose around his face. There was a bit of well groomed stubble on his chin that had not shown up in the photograph. He had smiling azure eyes, framed with long, dark lashes. To put it simply, he was beautiful.

"Bonjour!" he called out, smiling widely. "Enchanté monsieur, je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy." he said, extending his hand for a handshake.

 _Oh my god he is gorgeous. Wait how long have I been looking at him? Has he noticed that i'm looking at him? C'mon Arthur he want's you to respond! Say something!_

"Arthur Kirkland," Arthur managed to say, shaking Francis's hand.

"Come on in and let me show you around." Francis said, inviting Arthur into the house.

"Is that your son?" Arthur asked, stepping over the threshold and removing his shoes, as he noticed that Francis and Matthew's feet were bare.

"Oui zat iz my son. Matthieu, why don't you introduce yourself?" he said to the child, who was hiding behind Francis, arms wrapped around his leg.

"B-bonjour, je m'appelle Matthew." Matthew stuttered, still clinging to Francis's leg.

Francis laughed softly. "En Anglais, s'il vous plaît." he chided, tapping Matthew's head softly. "I do not zink 'e bites."

Matthew poked his head out from behind Francis, and shyly said, "H-hello Mr. Kirkland, my name iz Matthew." with a very thick French accent like his father.

"Très bien!" Francis praised, smiling fondly at his child.

"Does the lad speak English at all?" Arthur questioned, curious as how someone could live in Canada and barely know enough English for basic introductions.

"I understand more zan I can say." Matthew said, looking up at Arthur. His eyes studied Arthur, head cocked a bit to the side as if trying to figure something out. He then turned to Francis and asked him something in French. Francis laughed a bit, and shook his head, amused.

"What did he say?" Arthur asked.

"I'm sorry if you find zis, 'ow you say… rude, but Matthieu asked why you talk so funny. 'E 'as never 'eard an English accent before. It iz simply merveilleux zough. Essex?

"East Anglian." Arthur answered, shocked that Francis knew about the different types of English accents. "You were very close though, I must admit I am surprised, most assume it is an accent from London. And don't worry about the comments I get them all the time from my own son. Why, just this week he asked why my eyebrows were so large!"

Francis laughed, a throaty chuckle that sounded like "honhonhon"

"You 'ave a son? 'Ow old?" he asked.

"The same age as yours, although they could not act more different. If Alfred opened the door, he would squeeze the life out of you with a hug, all while talking a mile a minute."

"Do you 'ave any pictures?" Francis inquired, seemingly interested. Arthur whipped out his phone and scrolled through his gallery until he found the picture from this morning. Francis took one look at the photograph, and burst into laughter.

The picture showed Alfred standing on the couch, sword raised proudly and an impossibly large grin on his face while Allistor was tied to a chair in front of him, looking utterly defeated.

"Oh mon dieu that is gold! And your child is trés adorable!" Francis chuckled, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Somezing tells me zat ze man who iz tied to ze chair iz not acting."

"He's really not, I spent about half an hour untying him. I have a better picture of Alfred if you would like to see."

"Oui, s'il vous plaît."

Arthur smiled and scrolled through the pictures, elated that someone was interested in hearing about Alfred. He presented the phone to Francis proudly, but was met with wide eyes and a gasp. "Is something wrong?"

"Non, non, it'z just zat 'e looks exactly like Matthieu. For a second I was zinking zat zat was 'im." Francis said, studying the picture. He looked down at his own son for a bit, then back at Alfred. "Ze eyes and 'air are different, ozher zan zat zey could pass for ze same person."

"My thoughts exactly when I saw the included picture on Matthew's file. If I may ask, what gives Matthew such a beautiful eye color? I must admit, i've never seen such peculiar purple eyes before."

"It iz a condition zat I 'ave very much difficulty pronouncing, zough I will try. 'E 'as a form of _heterochromia iridum._ " (I actually looked on Hetalia archives and it says that Prussia has this when he has multiple eye colors and i've seen pics of Canada where it looked like he had multiple eye colors so this is what happened) Francis said, saying the name slowly to eliminate his accent.

"Lovely. Now why don't we sit down to review the papers I brought along. Is there someplace where we could sit?"

Francis waved a hand in response, gesturing for Arthur to follow him deeper into the house. The Frenchman spun around elegantly on one foot, leaving a faint smell of roses and lavender in his wake.

 _He smells really good._

Arthur followed Francis up a small spiral staircase, admiring the works of art lining the walls. Oh who was he kidding he was admiring Francis. The walls were lined with scenes of Paris, all painted or sketched skillfully. The Frenchman led Arthur into an open living area, which had a cozy armchair, a small couch and a glass coffee table with a vase of roses in the center. Arthur set his folder containing all his papers on the coffee table, taking a seat on the couch while Francis sat down in the armchair. Francis flew to his feet with a gasp. "I almost forgot!" he hurried out of the room, leaving Arthur behind. Arthur sat there for a moment, not knowing what to do, before looking around the room. Francis walked back into the room, a bottle of wine and two wine glasses in his hands.

As Francis was pouring the wine, Arthur cleared his throat. "So we need to go over the Pennsylvania custody laws, and figure out how to convince the judge that it is in your son's best interest to remain under your care." he stated, accepting the glass that Francis handed him and pulling some papers out of his folder, handing them to Francis. The Frenchman's face grew serious as he looked over them, his brow creasing.

"Ze laws make… ah 'ow you say in English… very little sense. Can you explain zem for me, s'il vous plaît?" Francis asked, a mix of worry, confusion and frustration in his eyes. Arthur felt a pang of sympathy for Francis, and nodded, taking the papers back to skim over them.

 _These laws make little sense to the people who's job it is to study them, no wonder he can't understand them. My client's usually don't ask me for help though, preferring to suffer in silence._

"So this is the brief summary: Which of you is more likely to encourage and permit frequent and continuing contact between your child and the other parent; which of you is more likely to maintain a loving, stable, consistent and nurturing relationship with your child; and which of is more likely to attend to the daily physical, emotional, developmental, educational and special needs of your child is the one that gets primary custody."

Francis snorted. "I can assure you zat ze parent zat does all of zat iz moi, Arthur." He muttered darkly, swirling his wine around in the glass.

"Well i'll need to ask you questions about that and record your response. They are just going to be questions about your job, how often you are at home, what you do for Matthew, what she did for Matthew, and then we will all go for a meeting together to try and work out the custody arrangements." Arthur said, getting his notebook out. He noticed how Francis stiffened up when Arthur mentioned that Emillise would be at the meeting, his hand clenched tight around the stem of the wineglass. "Judging by your reaction to me telling you that she would be there, i'm assuming the split was quite messy."

"Oui, if messy iz ze word to describe actual 'ell." Francis said cynically, leaning forward and putting his head in his hands.

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened?" Arthur inquired."You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, of course." he added hastily, putting his hands in the air. Francis glanced up at him, blinking his azure orbs. Arthur had only known this man for about an hour, but was still shocked and saddened at the depths of pain in the Frenchman's eyes. He laughed shakily, and sat up to face Arthur properly.

"Oh non I don't mind. I zink it would 'elp me to talk about it. I 'aven't told anyone in person yet, only friends in Europe but what can zey do? Ze reason for ze split was…" he trailed off, head drooping. "She cheated on me." He said, his voice barely a whisper.

"Oh… good grief… that must have been heartbreaking." Arthur responded, shocked by this new information. "Though courts are reluctant to give the child to cheaters. Now if we can prove that you would take better care of your child, which just by judging from this past half hour, I would vouch for."

Francis smiled softly, obviously encouraged by Arthur's opinion.

 _Why in the world would someone leave him for someone else? It obviously tore this poor man's heart out. I haven't even met his ex wife but I already want to slap her._

"What is your job? It mentioned it in the file but i've forgotten, and I need a bit more detail."

"I work at ze restaurant zat I started called La Belle Rose. I relocated it from Canada when we moved."

"How long are the hours and how much time does that leave to spend with your son?"

"I 'ave very flexible 'ours, and i'm free for any emergency zat comes up. I was ze person zat would drop and pick Matthieu up from 'is school, alzough je ne sais pas pourquoi, as Emillise was always 'ome." (I do not know why)

Arthur raised a brow at Francis's statement, and scribbled something in his notepad.

 _Interesting… even though she stayed at home all day Francis had to care for Matthew. If that doesn't sound suspicious I don't know what does._

"Any additional details you can share about the mother/son relationship that Matthew and Emillise have?"

"As far as I know, zey 'ave very little of a relationship. You might 'ave noticed zat Matthieu only speaks le Françias and not English. Zis is because I was ze one zat taught 'im 'ow to speak."

"Why the hell didn't you teach him proper English instead of French?"

Francis shrugged. "Because, mon ami, my English as you can see is not ze best. When Matthieu was learning 'ow to talk, we were living in ze Québec province of Canada, which iz mainly French. It makes sense to teach my son a language zat I grew up on and ze one zat 'e would 'ave used ze most if we 'ad stayed zere, non? 'Ave you wondered why 'e 'aden't picked up at least a tiny bit of English by speaking to 'er? You see, Emillise ne parle pas Français."

"Ummmm… translation please?" Arthur asked, after a couple seconds of trying to figure out what Francis had said.

Francis sighed. "She does not speak French. Ze chienne said zat I 'ave to teach 'im 'ow to speak, she never specified what language." Francis said, a self satisfied smirk crossing his lips.

"I have a strong feeling that chienne translates to bitch."

"Oui."

Arthur could not hold back his laughter, and snickered loudly, trying and failing to stop when Francis looked at him, utterly puzzled. Francis laughed alongside him, his throaty chuckle mixing with Arthur's.

They soon finished the questions, and Francis got up, stretching. He extended his hands over his head, arching his back. Arthur also stood up, gathering his papers and notes in a neat stack.

"I shall go set ze table for dinner." Francis said, collecting the now empty wine glasses and half full bottle. Arthur began to walk away, but stopped when he heard a faint honhonhon noise behind him.

"Is there a problem?" Arthur asked, looking back to see Francis trying hard not to laugh.

"Mon ami I zink zat you should know zat zere iz a barrette in your lovely 'air zat says, 'I'm a pretty pretty princess'."

Arthur patted his head frantically, feeling nothing there, his face rapidly colouring.

 _Allistor you wanker i'm going to castrate you for this._

Francis sighed. "Let me get zat for you, mon cher."

Suddenly Francis was behind him, softly untangling a pin from Arthur's hair. He plucked it out and handed it to Arthur with a flourish. Francis then sauntered off to the direction of the staircase, swaying his hips slightly. Arthur had never been happier that his face could not be seen.

 _He said I had lovely hair… goddamnit why does he have to walk like that, it's taking all my self restraint not to stare at his arse. My bloody face must be the colour of a fire truck right now. What does 'mon cher' mean?_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: the dinner

Francis practically skipped down the stairs, delighted about being presented the opportunity to show off his cooking skills. Grabbing ingredients and supplies at almost inhuman speed, he flew around the kitchen, adding a little spice here and there, stirring, chopping, and of course tasting. Matthew stood at the entrance, looking at his father dancing around the kitchen, a look of pure bliss on his face. Francis glanced back at his son and motioned for him to come closer.

"Dis-moi ce que tu penses." (tell me what you think) Francis said, bending down and handing Matthew a spoonful of the dish to taste.

"C'est délicieux!" (It's delicious) Matthew exclaimed, trying the food.

Francis smiled, ruffling Matthew's hair. "Why don't you go and set ze table, non?"

"D'accord!" Matthew chirped, grabbing silverware from a nearby drawer and running off. Arthur entered the kitchen, stepping to the side to avoid the small child running out of the room. He began to approach Francis, intending to ask him something but stopped once he saw the Frenchman. Francis was twirling around the kitchen, having resumed his cooking. He was humming as he chopped and stirred, occasionally opening his mouth to sing a few notes, seemingly unaware of Arthur's presence.

 _I can't decide what I like more, the smell of the food or the man cooking it. He looks like an angel like that._

"Et tu," (And you) Arthur jumped guiltily, startled by Francis's voice. He opened his mouth, preparing to apologize, but was shushed as the Frenchman spun around elegantly, a beaming smile on his face. "Would you also like try some?" He asked, handing Arthur a spoonful of the dish. Arthur nodded mutely, accepting the offer. He sipped at the warm broth, finding it quite good. He could feel his eyes light up at the taste, and Francis chuckled.

"Now now mon cher," He chided, lightly tapping Arthur's nose with a finger. "Zere will be more where zat came from. Ze restroom iz on ze 'all down ze right if you would like to wash your 'ands before eating."

"T-thank you." Arthur stuttered, before abruptly turning around and sprinting down the hall, locking himself in the bathroom.

 _God my face must be bright red right now. That food was quite good though. All that's left to do is get over how bloody French everything is. But I suppose French isn't too bad…_

His phone suddenly rang, startling him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller id, being greeted by a picture of him and his brother in kilts that his brother had to practically wrestle him into. _Allistor._ His heart began to pound wildly, his pupils dilating with fear.

"Hello? Allistor? Is everything alright? Is Alfred alright? Are you alright?" He asked frantically, panic colouring his voice. "Oh god did anything happen?" Loud laughter interrupted him, and Arthur began to calm down.

"Allistor… why. The. Bloody. Hell. Did. You. Call?" Arthur growled through gritted teeth, venom filling every word.

"Awww Artie I just wanted tae see how yer little date was goin'." Allistor chuckled. "I am touched tha' ye thought o' me safety though."

"Allistor you git I thought I told you to only call in the event of an emergency." Arthur said coolly, trying to remain composed.

"Well ye did but…" Allistor trailed off, scratching the back of his flaming head sheepishly, twirling the phone cord with his finger. Quite the opposite of him, Arthur's fingers were clenched tight around his phone.

"And let me ask you this, brother dear. Is this an emergency? And do you perhaps know the reason why I asked about your's and Alfred's safety?"

"Because ye care?" Allistor suggested meekly, bracing himself for Arthur's anger.

"NO YOU ABSOLUTE TOSSER IT'S BECAUSE I THOUGHT THAT SOMETHING SERIOUS HAPPENED! I WAS ONE SECOND FROM ABANDONING EVERYTHING AND RUSHING TO THE NEAREST HOSPITAL!" Arthur screamed, not caring if Francis heard. "I THOUGHT THAT SOMEONE DIED YOU WANKER. Don't scare me like that. I couldn't bear to lose you both."

"I'm really sorry." Allistor mumbled, hanging his head in shame, face almost as red as his hair. He hadn't even thought about how Arthur would react, and his heart twisted. "Anyways, yer here, how is it?" He asked cheerily, knowing that the worst of his little brother's anger had passed.

"It's not a bloody date, but quite well. His son is very cute, but the lad barely knows any English, only French. It's strange he looks identical to Alfred. Also 'I'm a pretty pretty princess'? Allistor I swear to god i'll get you back for that."

"Don't try tae deny it Artie yer tha prettiest princess there is." Allistor teased.

"Damn right I am." Arthur scoffed. "Now I must go, and do say hello to Alfred for me."

"Will do. Bye Iggy!"

"DON'T CALL ME I- damnit he hung up."

Arthur pressed end call and sighed, turning on the water and splashing some on his face.

 _And the git wonders why i'm so short tempered around him…_

Arthur walked back into the dining room where Matthew was setting the table. The little boy looked at him questioningly, eyes asking about why Arthur was screaming earlier. "Brothers." Arthur deadpanned.

"'Ow many?" Matthew asked softly, preoccupied with folding cloth napkins into the shape of roses. He smiled slightly and held the completed rose out for Arthur to look at.

"Five and that's très bien." (Very good) Arthur complemented, unsure if he had said the right words. He had heard Francis say it earlier. Matthew's face split into a wide smile at hearing Arthur speak French, and he gave the rose to Arthur, all while talking. Arthur accepted the rose with a smile.

"Well now I know what that means. I don't know French so you will have to speak English with me though."

"Ok." Matthew said quietly, still happy at Arthur's praise. He soon completed the final rose and set it at the head of the table, which was presumably Francis's seat. Arthur sat down across from Matthew on the long table, at Francis's left.

 _When is he going to come out of the kitchen? Also this table is quite long, intended for more people. He must have quite a lot of guests over._

Arthur's thoughts were interrupted when Francis walked into the dining room, balancing three plates on his arms.

"Bon appétit!" Francis sang as he set the steaming dish down in front of Arthur, pouring wine that Arthur hadn't even noticed he was carrying.

"Merci." Matthew chirped as he began eating. There were a couple seconds of silence as all three people dug in.

"This is quite delicious." Arthur commented in between bites, wiping his mouth.

"Merci beaucoup! It iz one of ze most popular dishes at my restaurant. It iz a modified French recipe as ze original can take most of ze day to make. My maman used to make it all ze time with my sisters." Francis beamed, sipping at his wine.

"You have siblings? How many?" Arthur inquired, curious about this man's family.

"I 'ave trois sisters, Marianne, Lucille and Michelle, and I am ze oldest by eight years." Francis answered. "I assume zat you also 'ave siblings, from ze yelling I 'eard earlier."

Arthur flushed red, embarrassed that Francis had heard him screaming at Allistor. "Yeah i'm the second youngest of six children. My oldest brother lives not far from here so I asked him to stay with my son. He decided to be an idiot as usual and call me after I said only to call in case of an emergency."

Francis chuckled, shaking his head, hair bouncing around his face. "Well now 'e knows not to disturb you."

"Damn right. I wouldn't be surprised if that twat has barely any hearing left from how loud I yelled. I'm terribly sorry about that by the way."

"Oh no mon ami it iz no problem."

They spent the next hours talking about themselves and their families, exchanging stories. To his surprise, Arthur found himself enjoying the man's company very much. He learned that all of Francis's sisters were still in Paris, and that Francis enjoyed drawing. In turn, Francis learned that Arthur's family moved around quite a lot before he was born, and so all of his siblings were born in different parts of the British Isles. When Arthur glanced at his watch, he was surprised to see that they had been talking for well over two hours, and it was now time for him to go home.

 _Alfred should be asleep at this time. I wonder how Matthew is still awake it must be past his bedtime._

As if on cue Matthew yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes. "Êtes vous fatigué?" (are you tired) Francis asked. Matthew nodded sleepily, eyes drooping. "Excusez-moi for a minute I need to put my son to bed." Francis said, picking up the child and glancing apologetically at Arthur.

"Oh no it's actually just about time for me to go. Thank you for the dinner the food was splendid, and I hope we can continue our friendship outside of a professional environment." Arthur said, walking to the entryway and collecting his jacket.

"Merci! I also 'ope zat I can see you again I really do enjoy your company." Francis twittered, shifting the child in his arms in order to open the door. "'Ave a good night!" he called out as Arthur made his way back to his car.

 _When can I see him again?_ Was the main thought passing through both of their minds for the remainder of the evening.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Double trouble

"Alfred! For the love of god will you just STAY STILL!" Arthur shouted, thoroughly exasperated. The troublesome five year old just laughed and stuck his tongue out, avoiding his father's grasp as he nimbly darted around the room in an effort to avoid getting ready. Allistor had a last minute date that he had forgotten to tell Arthur about, and he was without a babysitter. After the seventh attempt to brush Alfred's hair, or at least make it look semi-presentable, Arthur threw the comb down, giving up. He slumped against the wall, running his hands through his own hair, looking at Alfred.

 _Jesus Christ Amelia the kid got your energy and my stubbornness. If only you could help me deal with him now._

He looked at his watch and yelped. "Bloody hell if we don't go right now we are going to be late!" Arthur grabbed his case, sprinting down the stairs and throwing the door open. Francis had invited him over for dinner again, to discuss what they were going to do at the meeting next month. This could of course be done over email, but both men prefer to talk in person.

"There's someone my age there, right?" Alfred chirped as he climbed into the car.

"I've told you before, but yes. He doesn't speak English very well, only French so you might have some trouble talking to him."

They pulled up to the house, and Alfred immediately ran up the steps, knocking excitedly on the door, while Arthur trailed behind him, taking his time walking up the path to admire the flowers. Just as Arthur reached the door it opened. "Bonjour mon ami!" Francis sang, before noticing Alfred. "Oh allo zere. You are Arthur's son oui?" He asked, squatting down to be at Alfred's level and smiling warmly.

"Yeah this is my son, Alfred. I couldn't find a babysitter in time so I brought him along. Is that alright?"

"Oui zat iz fine. Bonjour Alfred, je m'appelle Francis and I am your father's friend."

Alfred simply stared at him for a couple seconds, taking in his appearance. "Why do you have long hair and talk funny?" he asked.

"Alfred! That's quite rude! Apologise to Francis immediately!" Arthur gasped, clapping a hand over his son's mouth before he could say any more. Francis just laughed, elegantly straightening up and patting Arthur on the shoulder. "Don't worry it iz fine. I 'talk funny' because I am French, and I 'ave an accent. Ze reason I 'ave long 'air is because it looks very pretty, oui?" He explained, flipping his hair over his shoulder and winking at Arthur.

"Y-y-yes very pretty." Arthur stammered, then blushed furiously once he realized what he said. "Alfred dear do try to be more polite next time." He said, not looking down at him, his eyes never leaving Francis's. "Alfred?" He asked worriedly, looking down at his son.

Alfred's mouth was slightly open, his eyes as wide as dinner plates. Arthur followed his intense gaze and found Matthew staring back at Alfred from behind Francis, his expression mirrored.

"Well Matthew, you deserve a medal." Arthur stated, hoping to break the silence. Matthew broke the staring contest with Alfred and looked up at Arthur, confused. "You've managed to make Alfred shut up." Arthur deadpanned, keeping his face emotionless.

"Hey!" Alfred protested, while Francis and Matthew laughed. The silence that held both of the boys broke, and they ran up to each other, each talking nonstop in their respective language. After a couple seconds of this, they turned and ran into the house as if acting on an unspoken command. Francis and Arthur stared at their retreating backs, bewildered.

"I guess language barrier be damned." Arthur shrugged.

"I 'ave no idea what just 'appened, but I zink zat our boys will get along."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Old memories and charcoal

It had been two months since they had met, and July was fast approaching. Alfred and Matthew had become very good friends, spending almost every moment together.

"Alfred! How many times have I told you not to take the ingredients!" Arthur scolded, as Alfred ran away, stuffing his face with chocolate chips.

"Ah let zem be." Francis said, laying a hand on Arthur's shoulder, his apron streaked with flour. Francis had invited both Arthur and Alfred over, and upon learning of Arthur's inability to cook but love of baking, insisted that he and Arthur make something together. Francis was making making little pain au chocolat's, which Arthur insisted on calling the only edible thing in France, and in return Francis called Arthur's scones charcoal. As Francis put the tray in the oven Arthur opened the window, hoping for some relief from the heat.

"Hey Francis what's in the backyard?" Arthur asked, seeing a large tarp covering most of the large backyard.

"A pool." Francis replied, setting the oven to the correct temperature. "If you want, we could go swimming." He offered, turning around to face the other man.

Arthur stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse to not go swimming, but a loud voice interrupted him. "A pool in your backyard! Mattie that's awesome! Can we go swimming please please please?" Alfred begged, having overheard them.

"S'il vous plaît?" Matthew asked, looking up at his father.

"Only if Arthur says it iz alright." Francis answered, ruffling Matthew's hair. As soon as the words escaped his mouth, two sets of large eyes turned toward Arthur, pleading.

"Please please please daddy?"

"I-I-I I guess that would be okay." Arthur stammered, cracking under the adorable pleas. "Oh but we don't have swimsuits."

Alfred's face fell, but brightened when Francis spoke up. "Alfred can borrow one of Matthieu's and you can borrow one of mine, mon cher."

Arthur nodded mutely, accepting the fact that they were going to go swimming. Francis walked outside to set up the pool, as Arthur trailed behind him, looking like a lost puppy. As Francis pulled back the tarp to expose the pool he noticed Arthur. "Need somezing, mon cher?"

"Ummm… well I-I." Arthur started, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Oui?" Francis prompted, brows furrowing.

"I don't really know how to swim." The Brit whispered, glancing at the water fearfully. He expected teasing, and was shocked when Francis stood up and hugged him, turning him away from the water.

"You don't 'ave to get in if you don't want to. My bedroom iz on ze 'allway to ze right, ze clothes should be in ze top left drawer of ze dresser. Zat iz if you will join us." Francis whispered, his breath tickling Arthur's neck. Arthur nodded, stepping out of the embrace and heading into the house.

 _What the fuck was that? I should have slapped him! But that hug did feel nice…_

He entered the Frenchman's bedroom, admiring how it was decorated. He quickly grabbed the swim trunks and went into the adjoining bathroom to change. As he was exiting he noticed a thick book laying on the bed.

 _Surely it can't hurt to see what he's reading. I wonder what his taste in books is like._

He opened it and found that it was not a book, it was a photo album. There was a little girl in a blue dress, chasing after a butterfly, and Arthur's heart melted at the sweet expression on her face.

 _This must be one of the little sisters he had mentioned. How adorable._

The next was the same little girl, now accompanied by three other boys, all standing together. One of the boys was hugging the girl, while the other two looked like they were doing everything in their power not to strangle each other. The photograph after that was of a little blond boy holding a baby, the caption under it said _Marianne et Francis._ There were more photos of what Arthur guessed was little Francis holding his sisters, until Arthur came to the largest photo in the book.

It was a group shot with Francis in the center, arms around a tall albino and a happy looking guy with tan skin. There were children Arthur recognized as Francis's sisters below them, with several more that Arthur did not. There was a stoic looking blond boy who was being hugged by a brown haired girl who's eyes were closed, both children looking around eleven years old. There was a little boy, about six years old, chasing one of Francis's sisters, a pretty girl with long brown hair that had a flower in it was holding the hand of the albino, and a boy that looked nearly identical to the closed eye girl but older seemed to be in the process of yelling at the other guy Francis had his arms around.

There was a knock on the door, and Arthur froze, book in his lap. "Arthur? I'm coming in, just wanted to warn you." The door flew open before Arthur had the opportunity to close the book. He hung his head like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, expecting Francis to get angry at him for looking through his stuff. Instead, Francis surprised the Englishman by sitting next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "Arthur, mon lapin I see zat you 'ave found my photo album and sketchbook." He purred, flipping back to the picture with the three kids.

"I'm terribly sorry I shouldn't have gone through your personal belongings without your permission." Arthur mumbled, ashamed of himself.

"Again, it iz no problem. I was so cute when I was younger. Oh 'ell, I still am!" He laughed, looking down at the photo, blue eyes clouded with memories.

"Are you behind the camera for this? This is quite an adorable picture though. With those three boys and that cute blonde girl. Is she your sister?" Arthur asked. Confused as to why Francis was talking about himself when the photo seemed to contain one of his sisters.

"Well you are right, zis photo 'as trois boys and one girl, 'owever ze 'blonde girl' iz me." Francis sighed, a smile playing across his lips. "Ze group photo iz us at 17 ans." He said, flipping the pages. "Zat girl iz one of ze before mentioned little boys, and zat is Gilbert, 'er soon to be 'usband. Antonio iz on my ozer side, and zat boy yelling at 'im iz 'is 'usband, Lovino." Arthur studied Francis's face as he looked at the picture, longing written all over it.

Arthur flipped the page, and his breath caught in his throat. It was a photograph of Francis in a suit, kissing a beautiful woman in a wedding dress, her light brown hair cascading in waves down her back beneath her veil. Francis's and Emillise's wedding. He looked at Francis, and in the split second before Francis regained his composure, caught his look of utter heartbreak.

"'Ow about we go swimming now?" Francis suggested, standing up abruptly. Arthur nodded and stood up, hearing Francis's signature 'hon hon hon' laugh from behind him.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

"Mon dieu, zat iz a splendid piece of French territory." Francis answered, pretending to swoon.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about…" Arthur asked, but trailed off when he saw what Francis meant. The swim trunks he had decided to put on were patterned with the French flag, and one was directly over his ass. "What the… You bloody frog!" Arthur yelled, halfheartedly smacking the Frenchman's arm. Francis just laughed, skipping out of the room.

Arthur walked down the stairs and into the backyard, seeing Alfred about to jump on Matthew, who was already in the water. "Alfie wait a second you still haven't put on sunscreen." Arthur said, worried about the risk of sunburn.

"Ok daddy!" Alfred chirped, running and grabbing the bottle. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a long, jagged web of scars on his back.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Amelia...

Francis's eyes went wide, and an audible gasp of horror was heard. Arthur tried to ignore the dread pooling in his stomach as he rubbed sunscreen on his son's back, feeling the raised canvas of scars beneath his fingers. He finished applying it and handed Alfred his swim goggles, turning around to face Francis. Before he could complete the turn however, his wrist was grabbed and he was dragged into a small study. The Englishman yelped in surprise but was quickly shushed by a set of intense sapphire orbs staring deep into his own emerald ones.

"What 'appened mon amour?" Francis gently questioned, placing his hands on Arthur's shoulders.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Arthur firmly responded. The Frenchman's gaze never faltered, and Arthur felt the walls he had constructed begin to crumble. "I-I-I…" Arthur stammered, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. "Don't…" he swallowed heavily, his throat beginning to close up. "Know…" He croaked. He began to sob quietly, his eyes never leaving Francis's. The dam holding the flood of emotions broke loose, tears began to flow freely from his eyes, and he let out a single, heartbroken wail. Francis pulled the other man close, rubbing his back soothingly while Arthur buried his head in the other's chest, beginning to tell the story.

 _Flashback_

 _Amelia E. Jones sat in the driver's seat of her bright red car, her four year old son napping in the backseat._

" _Are you sure you'll be alright driving love?" Her husband, Arthur Kirkland, questioned over the speaker system in her car. "It is dark and the roads are fairly slippery."_

" _Oh Artie you're acting as if it's my first time driving a car. Really honey don't worry i'll be fine. Stop being such a worrier." She responded, adjusting her mirror and checking that Alfred was buckled in properly._

" _I can't help but worry darling it's my job. I am, after all, your husband."_

 _She rolled her eyes, clipping back her hair with a star shaped barrette. They chatted for a bit as she drove onto the highway. Traffic was light, and she was approaching their house fast._

" _When will you and Alfred be home?" Arthur fretted, pacing the house. He always worried about Amelia when she drove, and the conditions today certainly didn't help with his anxiety._

" _I'm five minutes away dear I just have to get off of the highwaaaaa!" The last word turned into a shriek as a drunk driver plowed into her side of the car, sending her through the guardrail and down the side of a small cliff._

" _AMELIA!" Arthur shouted, hearing her's and Alfred's screams through the phone. He grabbed his car keys and drove like a madman to where his phone's tracker said she was. When he arrived, a crowd of paramedics and cop cars were already at the scene. He shoved through the crowd, ignoring any attempts to restrain him, and ran to where a small body was lying, surrounded by paramedics. "Alfred!" He yelled, rushing to his son's side. The person helping him turned the half conscious boy onto his stomach, and Arthur's stomach dropped at the sight that greeted him. Alfred's back was horribly cut up and bleeding freely, shards of glass embedded in his skin. The paramedics lifted him onto a stretcher, and Alfred stirred, a whimper of pain escaping his lips._

" _D-daddy?" he asked, opening his blue eyes, two gems shining bright against a sea of cuts and dirt._

" _Daddy's here." Arthur answered, gripping his son's hand reassuringly despite the paramedic telling him repeatedly to release it._

" _Wh-where's mommy?" Alfred croaked out, his grip going limp as unconsciousness claimed him again._

 _Arthur's blood ran cold. Amelia_

 _Arthur released Alfred's hand just before someone was about to forcibly remove it and ran to the nearest emergency vehicle. "Have you seen my wife? She was the one driving this car." He asked, nearly hysteric. The man he asked didn't even look up, instead pointed in the direction where the faintest glimmer of the red car could be seen. "Amelia!" Arthur screamed, startling the cop and causing him to fall over. Abandoning all rational thought, Arthur sprinted down the side of the ridge, passing rescue crews who shouted for him to stop. He reached the wreck of the car, where he spotted the glint of a familiar barrette._

" _A-arthur?" A faint croak reached his ears, and Arthur sobbed with relief._

" _I'm here darling everything will be alright." He soothed, getting her out of the car and laying her head on his lap. "The paramedics will be here soon and we'll get you to a hospital."_

 _Amelia laughed bitterly, coughing up blood. "Arthur, sweetheart we both know that…" she trailed off, gasping for air. "I don't have much time left." she managed to choke out._

" _Don't say that! You'll be fine! You have to be!" Arthur said frantically, trying to keep Amelia's eyes open._

 _She opened her eyes and smiled at him softly, raising her hand to caress his cheek. "Take care of Alfred for me… take care of our precious son… I love you Arthur…" she used the last of her strength to plant a kiss on Arthur's lips. Her head fell back onto his lap as the light in her eyes dimmed, and she took her final breath._

" _Amelia?" Arthur questioned, lightly shaking her shoulders "Amelia please stay with me. Alfred needs you. I need you. I love you..." her head dropped to the side, eyes blank. "NO!" Arthur screamed, breaking down in tears and clutching her body. He screamed and wailed like a banshee, his heartbroken cries echoing around the ravine._

He finished recounting the horrible day, his sobs muffled by Francis's shirt. The Frenchman's arms encircled Arthur, and a drop hit Arthur's shoulder. Arthur looked up at Francis, seeing the beautiful blue eyes glazed with tears.

"I 'ad no idea… Je suis tellement désolé mon ange." Francis whispered, still comforting the other. Arthur looked up at the man who held him, and realized that for the first time in a year, he felt safe and loved. Maybe his heart was finally beginning to heal.

As Arthur and Francis cried, two almost identical faces poked out from behind the door, unnoticed. The boys began to walk back to the pool in silence, each thinking of what they saw. "Do you remember 'er?" Matthew finally asked in a near whisper, breaking the silence as they sat down on the edge of the pool.

"Mommy? Only a bit. Daddy told me that I look a lot like her, and that she was very nice." Alfred replied, kicking the surface of the water.

"What about ze accident?" Matthew carefully inquired, trying not to upset Alfred.

"All I remember is that I was in the car with mommy, then she screamed and everything went black. I woke up in a strange place with my back hurting, and daddy told me that mommy was gone." Alfred said, staring across the water as if he could see his mother there. Matthew raised a hand and touched one of the scars lightly, retracting it when Alfred flinched.

"Does zat 'urt?" Matthew asked Alfred, looking at the other boy's face.

"Not anymore." Alfred said, then sighed. "I wish daddy wouldn't be so sad."

"Papa is 'elping 'im. 'E cares about 'im." Matthew pointed out.

"Daddy looks at Francy the same way he used to look at mommy." Alfred said, looking off into the distance. Matthew laughed, bringing Alfred's attention back to him. "What's so funny Mattie?"

"Francy? Vraiment? You call Papa Francy?" Matthew giggled, lightly hitting Alfred's arm.

"Hey Mattie cut that out!" Alfred yelped as Matthew stood up and began to dart around him, poking him. In return, Alfred pushed Matthew into the pool, where he fell with a yelp.

"Alfie!" Matthew protested as he resurfaced, hair plastered to his forehead. He splashed water at Alfred, who stood up to avoid it but also fell into the water with a high pitched squeal. The boys chased each other around the pool, laughing and splashing water at each other.

Francis and Arthur emerged from the study, holding hands as they walked towards the pool, smiling fondly as the sight of their son's playing greeted them.

Arthur had a light feeling in his heart, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. He squeezed Francis's hand, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

 _I think I might be falling for him… but there's no one i'd rather fall for._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Apparently Arthur spiked Allistor's tea

Francis tugged at his hair anxiously, waiting for his ride. Arthur was picking him up for a meeting with him, Francis, and Emillise. The goal of the meeting was to see if they could settle this without dragging everyone to court. Arthur had insisted that he leave Matthieu out of the first part of the meeting, and offered for his older brother, Allistor, to babysit both Alfred and Arthur. There was a burst of loud knocks on the door, and Francis opened it to reveal a harried looking Arthur, a excited Alfred, and last but not least, a man with vivid red hair who was in the process of ruffling Arthur's hair, who Francis assumed was Allistor.

"Francy!" Alfred squealed, running forward to hug Francis.

"Bonjour Alfred, comment ça va?" Francis asked, ruffling his hair.

"Ça va bien!" Alfred chirped, looking up at Francis's face.

"Très bien! Did Matthieu teach you zat?" Francis beamed, proud of Alfred. The boy nodded, releasing Francis in order to run into the house to find Matthew.

"So yer tha guy tha' stole Iggy's heart?" The red haired man questioned in a strong Scottish accent, hooking an arm over his little brother's shoulder and smirking at Francis. The Frenchman took a moment to marvel how fast the Brit flushed red.

"Allistor you bloody git get off me this instant!" Arthur yelled, throwing his brother's arm off and glaring at him.

"Enchanté monsieur, je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy." Francis greeted, extending a hand for him to shake.

"Allistor Kirkland." He responded, clasping Francis's hand in a firm grip. "I can't wait to meet yer son, fer tha last couple o' days it's been all 'Mattie this' an' 'Mattie an' I' that."

"Oui zey get along quite well. Alfred 'as been teaching Matthieu more English, and I swear, sometimes zey are almost joined at ze 'ip." Francis commented, scanning the room for any signs of the boys. "Matthieu? Où es-tu?" (where are you) He called out.

"Annoncé!"(coming) Matthew and Alfred slid around a corner, obviously racing. Allistor did a double take when he saw them, staring at the nearly identical boys.

"Jesus fukin' Christ. Iggy wha' the bleedin' hell kind o' drugs did ya put in my tea? Oh shite i'm seein' double here."

"Allistor you absolute tosser there are children present! Stop fucking swearing!" Arthur whisper-shouted at his brother, elbowing him harshly. Allistor was about to retaliate by putting the Englishman in a chokehold, but was stopped when Francis cleared his throat.

"I 'ave never been 'appier zat Matthieu only knows Français and not Anglais. Matthieu come over 'ere and greet your friend's uncle."

Matthew approached Allistor, but got scared and hid behind Francis's legs.

"C'mon laddie I won't bite ya." Allistor encouraged, squatting down and smiling at Matthew.

"Yeah Mattie don't worry Uncle Allison yells at daddy but he doesn't bite." Alfred chirped, grabbing Matthew's hand and dragging him away from Francis. Matthew took a few steps in Allistor's direction, still extremely shy about meeting new people but both little boys were scooped up in a tight hug before they could take more than two steps. Matthew yelped loudly while Alfred laughed and instantly returned the hug. After a heartbeat Matthew relaxed and returned the hug.

Arthur shot Francis a reassuring glance. "My older brother may be a bit of an idiot, but he is great with kids."

"I heard tha'." Allistor said, voice slightly muffled.

"That doesn't change the fact that it's true." Arthur retorted. "Now Alfred, Matthew, we'll be gone for about an hour or two then Allistor will drive you guys to where we are. Then after we finish we can all go get ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Both boys asked, Alfred jumping with excitement and Matthew confused.

"Crème glacée." Francis clarified, chuckling softly as Matthew's face lit up with excitement. "Au revoir Matthieu et Alfred." he called, stepping outside.

"Attends un peu!" (Wait a minute) Matthew cried. Francis and Arthur turned around just in time to be tackled in hugs. "Au revoir papa!" Matthew chirped, releasing Francis and running off to play with Alfred. Francis waved at the boy's retreating backs, and with a final thank you to Allistor for agreeing to stay with them, got into the car with Arthur.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Francis's turn to be traumatized

Arthur pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse, finding a spot near the front to park. As soon as he shut off the ignition, the passenger's side of the car flew open and Francis sprang out, stuffing his hands in his pockets and pacing down the length of the car, suddenly stopping and glaring fiercely. Arthur got out slowly, double checking that he had all the necessary documents and forms in his briefcase. He approached Francis, laying a hand on the other's shoulder and noting how tense Francis was.

"Everything alright?" He asked, following the direction of Francis's glare and noticing a bright yellow car.

"Zat iz 'er car." The Frenchman spat. "I can't believe zat she iz still driving it."

"How can you be sure? There are plenty of cars that have a yellow paint job." Arthur pointed out, skeptical.

"I gave 'er zat car." Francis said, then his head drooped. He turned away, about to walk into the building, but did not take a single step. Arthur noticed this and walked back to Francis's side, taking the Frenchman's hand in his own and leading him into the building.

Arthur was really glad that he was in front and Francis couldn't see his scarlet face. They entered the room where they would all meet, and to Arthur's surprise it was empty. Arthur set up his materials, taking documents and forms out of his briefcase. Francis sat down in a chair, twisting a pencil in his hand and whispering to himself in his native language.

"Ughhh Allen baby it's just a meeting with my bitchy ex to get him to hand over the kid." A nasally whine drifted through the hall, and Francis almost snapped the pencil. He stood up, preparing to stride out the door, but was stopped by Arthur. "No I don't know why the kid isn't already with me but I promise you'll love him!" Emillise squealed after a man, who Arthur assumed was Allen, asked her something.

Emillise entered the room, and Arthur had to stop his lip from curling in disgust. Instead of the beautiful woman that was in the photograph, he was faced with a short girl with a dyed black and highlighted pixie cut, dressed in a midriff bearing top, extremely short shorts, caked on makeup, finished with a pair of tacky, in Arthur's opinion, bright pink high heels. It certainly didn't help that there was a cigarette dangling from her pierced lip.

She sashayed over to Francis, who was glaring at her, and proceeded to drape herself over him and twirl her painted talons in his long hair. "Heeeey Frani~" she purred, seemingly oblivious to how Francis went rigid with shock, or that Arthur was standing there, visibly uncomfortable. "Wada ya say we just forget about all of this and you hand the kid over, alright sugar?" she batted her eyelashes.

"Remove your nails from my 'air, s'il vous plaît." Francis said, voice surprisingly calm and measured for someone in his situation.

"Oh don't be such a meanie. Now let's sign those silly papers and agree on child support. All I need is your signature and i'll pick the kid up later."

"No way in 'ell." Francis hissed through gritted teeth, stepping off to the side.

"He's my kid. I gave birth to him." she whined, blowing smoke in Francis's direction. He looked at her with venom in his eyes, wasting no time replying.

"Oui but who spent every moment with 'im? Who comforted 'im after a nightmare? Who cooked, cleaned, drove 'im to school? Who taught 'im 'ow to talk? Who loved 'im and cherished 'im like ze gift 'e is? Moi. Who barely remembers 'is name and ignores 'im? Tu. You can 'ave 'im over my dead body." He spat, voice rising until he was nearly screaming at the end. He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, trying not to let tears spill from his eyes. Francis suddenly spun around on his heel and fled the room, the clack of his shoes the only thing Arthur could hear.

"So does this mean the kid's mine?" Emillise asked, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Not if I have a say in it." Arthur called over his shoulder, exiting the room. He prowled the halls for a bit, trying to find Francis.

 _Where the hell did that blasted frog go? I do hope he is alright…_

Muffled sobs caught his attention, and he entered the room that they seemed to be coming from, knocking on the door. The sobs cut off, and a red eyed Francis opened the door, looking hopeless. "Can I come in?" Arthur asked gently, talking to the other like you would to an injured animal. Francis nodded and opened the door, allowing Arthur to enter. As soon as it closed Arthur surprised Francis by hugging him fiercely, rubbing circles on the other's back. Francis buried his face in Arthur's shoulder, his own shaking with sobs. Arthur didn't push him away when he felt tears wetting his shirt, but instead began to make soft shushing noises, silently encouraging Francis to tell him what happened.

 _Flashback_

 _Francis walked up the path to his house, feeling lighter than air. The twentyfive year old Frenchman had everything he ever wanted in life. A beautiful house, a job doing something he loved, his own restaurants, a five year old son, and a lovely wife. He paused on his way up the path, a lovestruck look crossing his face as he thought of her. Emillise. They had been married for five years, and Francis was head over heels in love. They had met when the French immigrant was only eighteen, when they were both students in the University of Paris. She was from Canada, having come to France for college despite not knowing any French. They had quickly fallen for each other, and moved to Canada when he was twenty, where they got married and Francis finished his education. Soon after the wedding, Emillise gave birth to a baby boy, who they named Matthieu. He missed France terribly, for he had left his family, friends, and country to be with Emillise, but in his opinion it was worth it for love. A couple months earlier, Emillise had confessed that she had always wanted to live in the United States of America, more specifically Philadelphia. Francis, much to Emillise's delight, offered to move there, and here they are._

 _Francis smelled the fragrant bouquet in his arms, and checked that the box containing the gold and diamond earrings hadn't fallen out of his pocket. He had been eyeing them for weeks, waiting until he had enough money to get them for his wife. He sighed, thinking of how they would bring out the flakes of gold in her chocolate brown eyes._

 _He unlocked the door, preparing to surprise her, but froze when he heard her voice._

" _Allen baby i've told you for like the fifth time that I only need to get the last of my stuff from my bitchy ex's house and the kid. Then i'll be home. I can't wait for you to meet my kid, and i'm sure he will love his new daddy."_

 _He almost dropped the flowers in surprise, thoughts swirling through his head. Bitchy? Ex? Allen? Baby? Home? New daddy? What the hell was going on? His mind wandered to the possibility that she was cheating on him, but he pushed it away. Non. C'est impossible. Francis trusted Emillise completely, and believed that she would never cheat. Francis had been called 'The biggest flirt in all of France' before, but had not as much as looked at another woman or man after he met Emillise._

" _Yeah babe I just have to write this little note and then i'm done. Most of my stuff is already home I just have to find the kid he's somewhere in this house. Ugh i'll be so happy when all of this business with my ex is done and i'll be back in your arms." she purred, unaware that Francis was standing behind her. Francis's jaw dropped in shock as he looked at the woman standing in his kitchen. Instead of the Emillise he had left when he went to work, this one was dressed in incredibly tight, revealing clothes, with a rather horrid pixie cut and a pair of pink high heels that Francis nearly gagged at. "Y'know, my ex was probably the ugliest guy you'll ever meet. Long hair like a girl, stupid little stubble on his chin, an accent that made me cringe just talking to him. Before I met him he would seriously flirt with everyone and everything. God, what a piece of shit." Francis dropped the bouquet in shock, the slight rustle catching her attention. "Looks like some of my stuff fell. Gotta go babe love you!" she made a kissy noise into the phone and ended the call, taking her time turning around._

" _Francis! Hey love aren't you supposed to be at work? How long have you been standing there darling?" she twittered, panic evident in her voice and eyes._

" _Emillise… pourquoi?" Francis rasped out, tears falling from his eyes. "Who iz 'e?"_

" _He's Allen, and i'm leaving you for him. I'm also taking the kid with me. Good riddance Francis." she sneered, taking a drag of her cigarette._

" _Quoi?" Francis asked, tears fading and replaced with anger._

" _I said i'm-"_

" _I DON'T WANT TO 'EAR WHAT YOU 'AVE TO SAY!" Francis screamed, taking a step towards her. "'Ow could you?!" he slipped back into his native language, not caring if she didn't understand or who heard. "I left everything for you! I gave you my heart and soul! I was always faithful! My friends, family, home, all sacrificed for YOU!" He took a deep breath, letting out a laugh that sounded slightly insane, even to his own ears. "And now you want to take Matthieu away. I can promise that if you even step near my son i'll rip you apart. Now leave." he hissed, throwing the box at her feet._

" _Francis I never meant for you to find out this way. Calm down and speak English. I promise that you can see the kid once a month." Emillise said, trying to pacify the livid Frenchman._

" _Zat doesn't change what you did. You must either be crazy, or extremely stupid to zink zat I would let Matthieu anywhere near you after zis. Now get out of my sight." he spat, taking off his wedding ring and throwing it next to the ring._

" _Francis-"_

" _PARTIR!" (leave)_

Francis buried his face in his hands as he finished recounting the events of that day, shaking his head. "'Ow could I 'ave been so stupid?" he sighed.

"I can see one 'piece of shit' in that story and it certainly isn't you." Arthur pointed out, accent thickening with rage.

 _I'm one second away from storming back there and screaming at her. How dare she break his heart, then come right back and try to take away his son. She truly is a vile woman._

Francis suddenly laughed bitterly, eyes filling with a bit of life once again. "Ze only regret from zat day iz buying ze earrings. I would give zem to you, but you can't wear zem."

Arthur smirked at Francis, raising one eyebrow. "Can't I, now?" he lifted a lock of hair that was in front of his ear, revealing a couple earrings. Francis stared in surprise for a moment, before laughing.

"Mon cher you are just full of surprises!" Francis giggled "Anymore zat I should know about?" He added with a suggestive wiggle of his own brows, his flirtatious personality returning.

"I have a tattoo of a guitar but you'll have to get me drunk to say where. And for your own sanity please don't try to get me drunk. My brothers did once, and are still regretting it to this day."

"Pourquoi?" Francis asked, curious.

Arthur sighed before responding. "Let's just say there was an incident involving stripping, a mini apron, a flying mint green bunny with wings, and confusion over whether i'm catholic or protestant. That's all the details i'm willing to share sober." He stated, offering a hand to Francis to help him up from the couch where they were sitting.

"So what are you?" Francis inquired, accepting the offer and getting up.

Arthur paused before unlocking the door. "God, I still don't know!"

The sound of the two men's laughter drifted down the hall as they walked back to the room hand in hand.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Artie's "time of the month"

The rest of the disastrous meeting went horribly, in Arthur's opinion. They had come back to the meeting room to face taunts from Emillise, followed by an impossible number of stupid questions.

"For the last time, which of you is more likely to encourage and permit frequent and continuing contact between your child and the other parent; which of you is more likely to maintain a loving, stable, consistent and nurturing relationship with your child; and which of is more likely to attend to the daily physical, emotional, developmental, educational and special needs of your child is the one that gets primary custody. That's a brief summary of the custody laws in this state. If the child is mature enough, which I think he is, the child's opinion will also be considered." Arthur snapped, his gentlemanly persona fading fast. Not a particularly patient man to begin with, Emillise's idiotic questions were taking a toll on him.

She blinked, looking around. "But the kid's not here. Does that mean you don't have to ask him?"

Arthur groaned, throwing down his papers and rubbing his temples. "Good grief this is the fifth bloody time you've asked this question. Matthew is not here right now, but he will be soon."

"How?"

Francis piped up, saving the Englishman from having to answer anymore questions. "'Is frère will be driving Matthieu et Alfred 'ere."

"Who's Matthieu?" she asked, furrowing her painted on brows.

"Your own child you bloody woman!" Arthur snapped. He was about to continue, but his phone rang. "Hello?"

"Oi Artie i'm out front. Get yer arse out here an' pick tha kids up."

Arthur nodded even though Allistor couldn't hear him, and pressed end call. "I'm going to go and pick the kids up. I'll be right back, please do avoid strangling each other."

"Wait what did you mean by 'bloody woman'? I'm not on my period."

"It iz a zing zat ze British say a lot, especially 'im." Francis explained, rolling his eyes.

"Wait so is he on his?" Emillise asked, and Arthur couldn't tell if she was being serious or not.

Arthur stomped outside, seeing his brother's car parked outside while Allistor leaned against it, watching the children play tag.

"Daddy!" Alfred shrieked, noticing his father. Both boys abandoned their game and ran up to Arthur, knocking him back onto the grass and burying him under a pile of small child. After a moment of watching with amusement, Allistor joined the pile. "Well hello there boys- oof Alfie be careful there- Allistor please help me… NOT BY SITTING ON ME YOU TWIT!"

Allistor merely laughed, getting off of him and offering a hand to the slightly squashed Brit. "So how was tha meetin'?"

"I swear to god that woman is the stupidest i've met in a while. I nearly tore my hair out after talking with her for five minutes, I can't even begin to imagine how Francis was married to her for five years." Arthur sighed, leaning back against the car.

"Awww now don't be so sad!" Allistor teased, ruffling his little brother's hair. "Here, I have a surprise for you." he reached back into the car and pulled out a thermos filled with Arthur's favourite tea.

Arthur flashed his brother a rare smile, gratefully accepting the tea. "Thank you Allistor. Now come on boys we need to go inside." He extended a hand out to the two boys, who seized a couple fingers each, and proceeded to walk inside.

As soon as they entered the doors, Matthew let out a whimper and stopped walking, burying his face in Arthur's side. "Matthew? Is everything alright?" Arthur asked, looking down at him. Matthew shook his head and clung to his stuffed bear, Kuma, looking up at Arthur with teary violet eyes. Alfred instantly let go of Arthur's hand and his own stuffed animal, hugging the other boy.

 _They obviously care for each other, and they are almost identical, despite not being related in any way._

"I don't want to see maman. She 'ates me." Matthew sniffed, returning the hug. Arthur's heart cracked at those whispered words, and he enveloped both of them in a hug.

"It's not for very long poppet, and Alfie, your papa, and I will be there."

Matthew nodded, holding Arthur's and Alfred's hands. Arthur picked up the stuffed animals that both the boys had dropped, and they made their way back to the room, where sounds of an argument were heard.

"Maybe if you weren't such a-"

"What part of 'jamais' do you not understand?"

"It's not in English! Will you stop speaking French for just a moment?!"

"D'accord. Jamais, nie, nunca, soha, mai. NEVER. 'E would be malheureux if 'e lived with you!" (miserable)

Arthur cleared his throat and entered the room. "If you both would shut the hell up and get out, I will be able to get the 'ask the child's opinion' portion of this done." he drawled, tone heavy with sarcasm. The boys dropped his hand, clinging to each other as Alfred stared at Emillise, mouth wide open. Arthur put the stuffed animals and thermos down onto the table in the room, turning to Francis.

"Hey kid." Emillise said, flicking ashes off the tip of her cigarette, despite Arthur having told her at least ten times that she could not smoke in the building. Matthew shrank back, and Alfred stepped in front of him, eyes wide. "What's wrong you brat? Don't you recognize your own mother?" Emillise sneered, blowing smoke in Alfred's face.

"No, my mommy was pretty." Alfred retorted, sticking out his chest defiantly. Emillise grabbed his arm roughly, ignoring his squeak of pain as her nails dug into his skin.

"Apologize to your mother immediately!" Emillise screeched. Alfred began to cry, scared of her, and Matthew ran to Francis and Arthur, hiding behind his father's legs.

"Daddy!" Alfred wailed, trying to get away from Emillise. Arthur had begun to turn around when he heard the squeak, and what he saw now made his vision go red.

"LET GO OF MY CHILD!" Arthur roared, startling Emillise enough for her to loosen her grip. Alfred tore himself free and ran to Arthur, who instantly scooped him up and rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.

"What the hell? He's my kid I can discipline him how I see fit." Emillise said, straightening up and glaring at Arthur.

"No you fucking twit this one is mine! Who bloody hell gave you the right to lay a single finger on him!?" Arthur raged, beyond furious. "Alfred poppet hush it's alright." he cooed, drying his son's tears. "The scary lady won't hurt you now." Emillise started to protest, but was hushed by an icy glare from the Englishman. Emillise huffed and turned back to Francis, who Matthew was hiding behind.

"Hey kid~" She sing-songed, bending down. "It's mommy. C'mere." Matthew stared for a moment, before whispering something. "What?" Emillise asked.

"Pourquoi es-tu ici?"(why are you here) Matthew asked, looking at her with no emotion in his violet eyes. She blinked, looking to Francis for a translation. He sighed.

"Why are you 'ere." Francis translated, looking at Emillise with disgust and a bit of pity.

"Oh Madeline you're so silly! I'm here to take you home with me. Don't ya want that?" She purred, sickly sweetness lacing her words. "Good thing my BOYFRIEND's brother speaks fluent French. You'll love Matt and Allen, they can't wait to meet you." Francis looked at her with shock, and Arthur swore his jaw almost hit the floor.

"What ze 'ell did you call 'im?"

"Madeline, why? That's his name."

As Francis was about to retort, a small voice piped up. "Matthieu, Mattie, Matthew, but my name iz not Madeline."

Arthur cleared his throat, setting his now calm son down. Alfred ran to Matthew's side, where he stuck his tongue out at Emillise. "I need to get Matthew's opinion now, so if you could all step outside, and Emillise you can go home. The court date is in two months, on August 25th. See you then."

Francis nodded, taking Alfred's hand and leading him outside. Emillise left after a bit of complaining, walking to her bright yellow car.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: The interview

Arthur sat down on the couch with Matthew beside him, and placed a voice recorder on the table. He pressed record and cleared his throat, pencil poised in his hand. Matthew shifted uncomfortably, growing nervous. Arthur's eyes softened and he leaned forward, laying a hand on Matthew's arm.

"It's alright laddie. There are only a couple questions that you have to answer, then you can go. You will have to answer them in English so I can understand them though. If you don't understand what i'm asking, tell me. You got all of that?"

Matthew nodded, holding onto Kuma tightly.

"Alright then first question. Who do you want to live with?"

"Papa." Matthew replied without hesitation, looking into Arthur's eyes.

"Can you tell me why?"

"Papa takes good care of me, and always notices me. Maman dosen't care."

"Why do you say that?" Arthur asked, a bit surprised. He had seen how Emillise acted before, but to hear her own child say it was jarring.

Matthew never broke eye contact as he thought of a response, and even though the child was more than half his age, Arthur was shocked at how powerfully and full of emotion those amethyst orbs stared into his.

"She was never zere. When papa would go to work, she would leave. I 'ad to stay by myself. Maman made me promise not to tell papa. She said zat it would make 'im sad. I've 'eard 'er talking to someone, she said zat I was useless and worthless. When I asked papa what zat means, 'e told me. She never notices me, and I zink zat she doesn't want to."

Arthur felt the volumes of truth in his voice, and it ripped his heart apart to know that this small child had heard his own mother call him worthless. He felt emotions threaten to rise up and shook his head to clear them, needing to remain professional.

"How often do you want to see your mommy if you live with daddy?"

"Do I 'ave to see 'er?"

"Only if you want to."

"I don't want to see maman."

"Ok that's it. You did a very good job Mattie. Now let's go get Francis and Alfred." Arthur said, turning off the recorder and leading Matthew outside.

Meanwhile outside, Francis and Alfred were sitting outside, Francis on a bench and Alfred playing with a toy plane. He watched the child play with a small smile gracing his features, thinking of how he used to play with his friends like that. On impulse he opened the messaging app on his phone and sent a message to the group chat.

THE BAD TOUCH TRIO

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: Just finished a meeting with Emillise ugh

They responded surprisingly fast, considering that it was around dinner time in Berlin and Barcelona.

~Tomato&Perfectass: Oh no amigo I hope you are alright

~PrussianAwesomeness: Su Frenchie

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: Gilbert are you drunk?

~PrussianAwesomeness: Ummmmmmmm 9 y?

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: Then why the hell are you texting like you are?

~PrussianAwesomeness: Ummmm rude & bc I can. Deal wit it :p

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: I honestly wonder how Elizaveta deals with you.

~PrussianAwesomeness: Toni back me up here

~Tomato&Perfectass: Idk Gil I agree with Francis.

~PrussianAwesomeness: I came out to have a good time and i'm honestly feeling so attacked right now. Better? Oh and hey Francy-pants are you going to be home around 8?

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: Oui and please don't call me that you know I hate it.

~Tomato&Perfectass: Francy-pants

~PrussianAwesomeness: Frenchie

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: Oh non Toni not you too

~Tomato&Perfectass: Rapunzel

~PrussianAwesomeness: Snail slurper

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: Excuse-moi snails are délicieux. I was actually planning on making them tonight for Arthur.

~Tomato&Perfectass: Oooo is that the cute English guy you mentioned earlier?

~PrussianAwesomeness: Hahaha have fun with that. Is he your new boyfriend or something?

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: I wish! Non he is helping me defeat my ex to win Matthieu.

~PrussianAwesomeness: The way you said that sounds like a video game. The boss battle Frenchie vs. The Ex!

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: …

~Tomato&Perfectass: …

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: Hey wait a second Gilbert and Antonio why do you care if i'm home around 8?

~Tomato&Perfectass: Lovi is calling me gtg!

~PrussianAwesomeness: Ummm Lizzie and West want me to help them fix something gtg!

~FrenchRapunzelIRL: LIES

Francis tied his hair back with a ribbon and stood up, stretching. While he was up he noticed Arthur and Matthew exiting the building, not noticing where Francis and Alfred sat. An idea crept into his mind, and he squatted down to talk to Alfred. "What do you say we scare Arthur and Matthieu?"

Alfred grinned and nodded, his eyes glinting mischievously. After whispering the plan to Alfred, they silently made their way behind Arthur and Matthew, who were looking for them.

"Where did that blasted frog go?" Francis heard Arthur say before he and Alfred struck.

"Je suis ici!" (I'm here) Francis called as he picked up a startled Matthew by his armpits and swung him around. Francis heard Arthur's surprised shreik as Alfred jumped on him from behind.

"Papa!" Matthew protested as Francis swung him around, both of them laughing. Francis set Matthew on his shoulders, turning around to see Arthur doing the same. Forgetting all about cheating ex's and heartbreak, they went to go get ice cream.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Introductions

After the four males had gotten the ice cream that was promised to the children, they made their way back to Francis's house, where the adults were sitting and chatting, and the children played. Arthur was sitting with Francis on the small couch, talking about stories with his brothers, and Francis about France, when the doorbell rang. The two men paused in their conversation as the door began to ring nonstop, with muffled banging noises and words coming through the door.

"Ve~ maybe he isn't-a home?"

"You idiota his-a car is in the driveway he is-a home!"

"Zhe awesome Gilbert vhill get him!"

"Gilbert if jou climb zhrough zhe vindow I vhill hit you vith my skillet. Let Lovi do it."

"OI VINO BASTARDO OPEN UP-A THE DOOR WE CAME ALL-A THE WAY FROM EUROPE TO TORTURE YOU!" a very gruff, loud voice with an Italian accent shouted, clearly heard throughout the whole house.

"Lovi!" Matthew squealed and ran to the door, Alfred on his heels. The boys fumbled with the locks before throwing open the door and being instantly picked up by various people. There were cries of 'Matthew' all around, before the group finally realized that there was not one, but two boys.

"VHAT ZHE SCHEIßE VHY ARE ZHERE TWO OF ZHEM!?"

"FRANCIS CHU HAVE GOT SOME SPLANIN' TO DO!"

"VE~ WHICH ONE IS-A WHICH?"

"NON LO SO IDIOTA IF I KNEW I WOULD-A SAY!"

"Mes amis!" Francis yelled, rushing to the door and instantly being tackled. "It 'as been so long!" Arthur made his way to the door considerably slower than Francis, and got a good look at the people who had interrupted them. There was a tall albino who Arthur recognized from the photograph who was currently in the process of messing up Francis's hair while the Frenchman yelled for him to get off, another man who Arthur recognized from the photograph who was holding one of the boys with a look of utter bewilderment on his tanned face, an expression that was mirrored on the face of the child he was holding. A short brunette with hazel/green eyes and a long curl of hair was holding the other, scowling. A very pretty woman with long hair was yelling at the albino, trying to pry him off of Francis. Suddenly, a tall stoic blond with slicked back hair and piercing blue eyes came and easily plucked the albino off Francis. A lighter skinned brunette that had closed eyes but otherwise looked identical to the earlier scowling one was clinging to the blond's back, something that the tall man didn't seem to notice or care about.

"Hi daddy!" Alfred chirped, still held by the man Arthur recognized from the photograph. "I met one of Francy's friends!"

"I see that." Arthur managed to say as all eyes in the room turned to him.

"Hey Francis iz zhis zhe 'attractive Brit' jou vere talking about?" The albino asked loudly in a strong German accent, smirking when both Francis and Arthur blushed.

"Gilbert leave zhe man alone he does not need to be traumatized vithin five seconds of meeting us." The blonde sighed. He walked forward and stuck his hand out to Arthur for a handshake. "Hallo my name is Ludwig Beilschmidt and zhis iz mein older bruder, Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Arthur Kirkland, and this is my son, Alfred F. Jones." Arthur shook the man's hand, finding that he had a very firm grip.

"Nein zhat iz not how jou do introductions! Hallo I am zhe awesome Gilbert und zhis iz my fiancée, zhe almost as awesome Elizaveta. Zhat iz mein little bruder, zhe not very awesome West." He introduced, throwing an arm around his fiancée. "Oh und zhat guy on his back iz Feliciano, his boyfriend." The small Italian jumped off of his boyfriend's back and ran to Arthur, grabbing his hand and shaking it enthusiastically.

"Ciao signore come stai? Come ti chiami? Mi chiamo Feliciano Vargas and it is-a so nice to meet you! Do you like pasta? I love pasta! Oh and this is-a my fratello Lovino!" He chirped, his eyes still closed and speaking in a mix of rapid fire Italian and accented English.

"Feli, stai zitto per favore." His brother barked and turned to Arthur with a scowl on his face. "Ciao my name is Lovino Vargas-Carriedo and we are-a the cousins of-a the wine bastard. The bastard holding your son over there is-a my husband, Antonio Fernández Carriedo."

"Pleased to meet you." Arthur replied, pleased to talk to someone sane for the first time that day. "Apologies if I seem a bit overwhelmed right now, I just wasn't expecting so many people."

"You reacted better than the flight attendant when the albino potato with legs yelled out on the flight, in German no less, "GET ME YOUR FINEST GERMAN BEER FIT FOR A PRUSSIAN!" After he realized that-a no one spoke German on an Italian flight, I-a wonder why, he repeated himself in-a English." Lovino recounted, glaring at Gilbert.

"Ah Arthur mon cher I see zat you 'ave met my friends and family." Francis said, a bit out of breath and fixing his messed up hair.

"They are… interesting to say the least." Arthur said hesitantly. "Where are Alfie and Mattie?" He asked, noticing that they were not among the crowd.

"Toni und Gil took zhem outside to play." Elizaveta responded, pointing to the backyard. "Don't vorry, despite his faults he iz great vith kids. I hope zhat after zhe marriage he can get his own." She smiled fondly, looking out the window where Arthur could see the back of a silver haired head.

 _I rather like his friends and family so far. I wonder if they like me? No stop that Arthur the man's your friend and client not boyfriend! yet…_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15: RomaNO

The dinner started, and Arthur found himself enjoying it very much. He was seated across from Ludwig and Feliciano, who had energetically talked about pasta for almost the entire duration of the meal. It came as no surprise when Arthur found out that Feliciano was considered one of the best Italian cooks in Berlin, where he lived with Ludwig. Lovino sat at his right side, and Arthur enjoyed the rather grumpy man's company. They talked at a length about their jobs when Arthur found out that Lovino was also a lawyer, and Lovino mostly complained about Antonio and Ludwig, who he did not seem to like very much, though he did not disclose the reason why. At the end of the meal, as Francis and Elizaveta were clearing away the plates, Feliciano stood up.

"Fratello what is-a that on your finger?" Lovino suddenly demanded, staring intently at Feliciano's hand, which was holding a wineglass. Arthur had actually inquired whether Feliciano was of legal age to drink, with Francis reassuring him that the Italian had turned 21 a couple months earlier.

"Ve~ Luddy proposed to me! It's my engagement ring, ti piace? (do you like) Feliciano beamed, pulling Ludwig up and making him hold out his hand. Applause and cheers burst to life around the table, and while he was congratulating the newly engaged couple, Arthur glanced at Lovino.

The older Italian's face was a mask of shock and anger, eyes burning and as short as he was, Arthur found himself quite scared of what his reaction might be. He stood and stalked over to Ludwig, ignoring Antonio as he attempted to pacify the seemingly livid Italian. Ludwig shuffled uncomfortably as the brother of his fiancé approached, holding out his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Lovino, i'm very sorry I should have asked for jour blessing but-"

He was interrupted when the short man stuck out a hand, still scowling fiercely. Ludwig stared for a few moments, shocked speechless, before hesitantly extending his own. Lovino grew impatient at the German's caution and as soon as their fingertips touched, he pulled the taller man into a tight embrace. An audible gasp was heard all around the room, as was the tinkle of shattering glass from the kitchen.

"Treat my fratello well, Ludwig." Lovino said as he pulled away, a rare smile gracing his features. Feliciano and Antonio promptly burst into tears. Lovino stepped around Ludwig and hugged his sobbing brother, rubbing his back soothingly. "Ti amo, fratello. I wish that you be happy in-a your marriage." He whispered to his overjoyed brother, who hugged him back. Antonio was standing off to the side and was also embraced by his husband, who hugged back with enthusiasm. "What-a are you bastards doing!?" he yelled out when he was released, glaring at everyone with a scowl back in place. "Congratulate my fratello on his happiness and not me for not being an asshole! Oi vino bastardo get some of the good champagne that-a I know you have so we can-a properly celebrate." he instructed, smile back on his face despite his attempts to replace it with a scowl.

"D'accord!" Francis sang, skipping to the kitchen. Arthur decided to follow him. In the kitchen Gilbert was holding Elizaveta in his arms, lightly scolding her while trying to gather bits of broken glass into a pile with his feet.

"What the hell happened here?" Arthur exclaimed in shock, noticing blood all over the Hungarian woman's face.

"A fucking fangirl moment over Lovino not being a dick to West. Lizzie jou beautiful idiot vhen vhill jou learn?" He scolded Elizaveta, obviously concerned.

"It's just a silly nosebleed Gilbert i'm fine." She protested, struggling in Gilbert's arms.

"Ja but jou know vhat vhill not be fine soon? Us after Frenchie notices zhat jou broke one of his favorite plates." He growled, jerking his head to where Francis was rummaging in his alcohol cabinet, happily oblivious to the pile of broken glass on his pristine kitchen floor. Elizaveta's face went white, and she bolted out of the kitchen. Arthur followed, sensing that it would not be wise to remain in the kitchen after Francis turned around.

"Ah Gilbert can you 'elp me with choosing ze best bottle? 'Ey weren't Elizaveta et Arthur 'ere… GILBERT I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" Arthur heard Francis shriek, followed by a very high pitched scream.

He sank back into his chair, red faced from laughing along with Elizaveta. "Vhat did mein dummkopf of a bruder do now?" Ludwig sighed, running a hand through his slicked back hair, messing it up slightly.

The group shared laughter at the amusing incident, and Arthur grew quite sad when he found out that he had to leave, as it was getting quite late and Alfred needed to go to bed.

"Alfred? Where are you we need to go home." he called, climbing the stairs and knocking on doors.

"Over here daddy!" Alfred chirped, opening a door and poking his head out into the hallway. "Mattie was showing me his train collection."

"That's great, but it really is time to go."

"Oh iz zhe attractive Brit going to leave vithout even saying bye?" A voice teased from behind him, and Arthur knew it was Gilbert.

"I'm not attractive you tosser!" He sputtered, turning to face the German man, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt. Curse his tendency to blush easily.

"Kesekesekese zhe French guy downstairs begs to differ." Gilbert snickered, before his face grew serious. "Can I talk to jou for a minute?"

"S-sure. Alfred you can play with Matthew for a little longer."

"Yay! Thanks Mr. Awesome!" Alfred cheered, closing the door.

"Mr. Awesome?" Arthur asked, raising one eyebrow as Gilbert ushered him into an empty room.

"Hey it's true. But zhat's not vhat I vanted to talk about. Vhat I vant to know is vhat jou and Francis are."

"Just friends." Arthur insisted, fidgeting uncomfortably.

Gilbert snorted. "Ja and mein bruder iz straight. Zhat's complete scheiße and jou know it." He rolled his crimson eyes.

"I don't even know if he likes me back!" Arthur protested, then realized what he said.

 _Oh god what am I, a teenage girl? Why am I telling him this?_

"Vell jou must be blind zhen. He'z been doing nozhing but staring at jou for zhe whole dinner. If he didn't like you as much as he does, jou would already have been in his bed. Francis flirts a lot, but he doesn't fall easily and zhat's vhat he did."

"R-really?" Arthur said hopefully, hating how small his voice sounded.

"Ja." The German man smirked, then threw open the door. "Danke!" he yelled over his shoulder before sprinting down the stairs.

"What?" Arthur asked, staring at his retreating back, but his question was soon answered.

"HEY FRENCHIE LISTEN UP BECAUSE ZHE AWESOME ME DID JOU A FAVOR!"

"GILBERT IF YOU BROKE ANOZER ONE OF MY MAMAN'S PLATES I WILL SEND YOU BACK TO EUROPE IN A COFFIN!"

"NEIN BUT JOUR LITTLE BRIT LIKES JOU BACK! KESEKESEKESE USE PROTECTION FRANCY-PANTS!"

Arthur's mouth opened in a short scream of anger and embarrassment, and he heard a mirroring scream come from downstairs, along with a small squeal of joy.

"OW LIZZIE VHAT ZHE HELL VAS ZHAT FOR?" he heard a dull clang, and scolding in a mixture of Hungarian, German, Italian, and English.

Arthur buried his head in his hands, wishing he could just sink through the floor. "Arthur? Ou es-tu?" A voice speaking French rang out, and Arthur groaned, not lifting his head.

"Go away Francis." he grumbled.

"Papa is still in ze kitchen, yelling at uncle Gil." The same voice said softly, and Arthur found Matthew standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob. "Are you ok?" Matthew asked quietly, climbing onto the bed where Arthur was sitting.

"It's grown-up stuff lad. You wouldn't understand." The adult said, ruffling the child's hair.

"You like papa and 'e likes you. I can understand zat." Matthew stated, looking at Arthur. He laughed a bit as Arthur's mouth fell open, shocked that it was that easily noticed. "It is… 'ow do you say? Obvious. Papa even calls you 'mon amour'." Matthew pointed out, getting off of the bed and out the door.

"Arthur, are you in 'ere?" Francis's voice drifted through the open door, and the Brit raised his head. "Oh mon ange je suis tellement désolé. I 'ad no idea zat Gilbert would do zat." He said, entering the door and taking a seat beside the Englishman.

"Is it true?" Arthur asked, his voice a bit muffled due to him burying his head in his hands again, in an effort to cover up his blushing face.

"Of course mon amour." Francis whispered, taking Arthur's hands away to reveal him with a light pink blush dusting his cheeks, his beautiful emerald orbs looking up at Francis, framed by impossibly long lashes. Francis had never seen anything more beautiful. The distance between them closed, and Arthur closed his eyes, feeling almost impossibly soft lips softly touch his own. The Frenchman wrapped his arms around Arthur, pulling him closer and pulling him into the best kiss Arthur had ever experienced. When they finally pulled apart, Arthur opened his eyes to find Francis gazing softly at him, sapphire orbs soft with love.

"Francis?" Arthur hesitantly whispered, reaching out a hand to softly caress the other's cheek.

"Oui mon lapin?" Francis hummed, catching Arthur's hand and kissing it lightly.

"What does 'mon amour' mean?"

"It means my love." Francis replied, a smile gracing his features, curling his lips up gently.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Let's see how red Artie can turn before Allistor is stabbed with escargot

Allistor hurriedly straightened Arthur's tie, a manic grin on his face as his little brother struggled in the strong Scotsman's grasp. "Bloody hell Allistor let go I can fix my own damn tie!" Arthur snapped, pushing away his older brother.

"Ah but ye know tha' I tie a tie better than you." Allistor reasoned, inching back to Arthur's side.

"YOUR DEFINITION OF TYING A TIE IS STRANGLING ME YOU GIT."

"I SEE NO PROBLEM WITH THA' SENTENCE." Allistor yelled back, still grinning like a maniac. "We need ta go, I didn't make reservations at tha best restaurant in town for nothin'." he paced the length of the hall, smoking a cigarette.

"Calm down we won't be late and how many times have I told you to stop smoking in my house!" Arthur screeched, fed up. They got into the car without killing each other and drove to the restaurant, Allistor entertaining himself by seeing how many shades of red he could make his brother turn. They exited the car and walked inside the large building, sitting down at a bench across from the restaurant. Looking inside Arthur could see that it was dimly lit, with art and scenes of Paris lining the walls. It looked like a very expensive place, and Arthur could see waiters in uniforms rushing around, getting everything set up. "Why the bloody hell are we here before it opens?" Arthur asked irritably, gesturing towards the sign that indicated that it would not be open for another five minutes.

"Because," Allistor drawled, slinging a hand over his little brother's shoulder. "I was expecting more of a crowd to get in. This place has the best reviews in town, an' I want ta impress Francis with my selection of restaurants. Also I want to properly meet him and explain that you are my little brother, an' if he does anything or touches you he will have to answer to me."

The Englishman rolled his eyes, tossing his brother's arm off. "First of all, there's only a crowd once it bloody opens. Second, I think you're forgetting that i'm an adult, and have been for a while. Third, i've been married and have a child. I'm not exactly a fluffy little bunny."

"God I wish you were then ye wouldn't talk so fuckin' much." Allistor groaned, standing up and walking to the door where a small crowd was beginning to form. Arthur got up and followed him, walking past a group of giggling girls.

"Oh my god this place is awesome. It's so expensive though!"

"My ex took me on a date here once and I swear his eyes nearly popped out of his head at the bill amount. And there's this really hot waiter there, he's French and might be in college."

"Ohhh i've seen him he's the one that called you my dear right? I wonder if he's single?"

"He dosen't seem to know a lot of English but his accent is beautiful." the girls twittered and gasped, while Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Americans." he hissed to his brother, who replied with a chuckle. They made their way inside and to the hostess, who was typing away furiously at the computer, eyes glued to the screen.

"Hello I have a reservation here under Kirkland." Allistor greeted and the girl looked up, nodding and scrolling through the files.

"Kirkland, party of three?" They nodded. "Right this way." she smiled pleasantly and led them through the restaurant and into a private room, oddly having no menus in her hands.

"Oh god where is Francis?" Arthur hissed through his teeth, looking around worriedly. "He might not be let in if he's late." They approached a table in the corner where Francis was already sitting, reading a book.

"Bonjour mon cher! I'm so glad zat you made it!" he sang, springing up and planting a light kiss on Arthur's cheek before hugging him. "Bonjour Allistor, comment allez-vous?"

"I have no idea what the hell you said, but I have a question. How the fuck did you get in? This bloody place doesn't let anyone in before it opens. If this place wasn't so French and have really good ratings I wouldn't even try. Do you know tha' this place apparently has a hundred dollar dish? The owner must be fuckin' insane to expect people to pay for tha'."

"Parce que mon ami, zis iz my restaurant. I am ze owner and founder." Francis explained, taking a seat. "I am flattered zat you zink my place is good, and I am pretty sure zat I am sane. Do you zink so mon ange?" He asked, flipping his long hair over one shoulder. He smiled up at a shocked Arthur, as Allistor began to edge away from his brother.

"YOU IDIOT DID YOU REALLY JUST COMPLAIN ABOUT THE PRICES OF THE DISHES TO THE OWNER'S FACE?" Arthur yelled at his brother, while Francis tried to get him to sit down.

"Oi I didn't know! An' speakin' o' menu, where are they?" Allistor asked Francis, taking a seat.

"Mon ami zis iz my restaurant. Attractive British people with ze name Arthur Kirkland eat for free." Francis purred, placing a hand over Arthurs. "Oh and zeir brothers."

Food that Francis had ordered to be made especially for them arrived quickly, and the three men wasted no time digging in. As soon as the final dish was taken away, Allistor leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table and a smirk playing across his lips. "Sooo… Have ye two done it yet?" He asked casually. Arthur choked on the sip of wine he took and his face went a red rival to the liquid, Francis patting his back and handing his boyfriend a napkin.

"Allistor!" The Brit choked out as soon as he could talk, glaring at the Scottish man. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"What?" Allistor defended himself, putting his hands up. "Just tryin' to make conversation here."

"ONE, THAT'S NOT SOMETHING YOU DISCUSS AT THE TABLE AND TWO, SIBLINGS DON'T TALK ABOUT THAT!" Arthur screeched, trying and failing to keep his voice down.

"Non we are taking it slow. We are both very busy, taking care of kids and work." Francis said, placing a restraining hand on Arthur's arm. "Arthur iz full of lovely surprises, and I can't wait to find out more of zem."

"So you haven't seen tha' tattoo?" Allistor asked, enjoying the various shades of red the Englishman turned. Francis shook his head, also amused. "Now tha's how I know ye ain't lyin', if ye did ye woulda seen it. I remember one night Amelia called me and practically screamed 'HEY ALLIE DIDYA KNOW ARITE HAS A TATTOO OF A GUITAR RIGHT ON HIS-"

"ENOUGH!" Arthur yelled, clapping a hand over his brother's mouth and tying a cloth napkin over his face. "I'm going to go somewhere. YOU shut up and Francis dear don't believe a word that git says." Allistor protested, his word muffled by the material around his mouth.

"D'accord. I won't." Francis reassured, shooting Arthur a charming smile. As soon as Arthur was out of earshot, Allistor leaned across the table, asking something.

"So ye wanna see pictures of Artie from when he was smaller?" He smirked, eyes lighting up mischievously.

"Oui, s'il vous plaît." Francis responded eagerly, taking the phone that Allistor passed him. There was a scowling blond boy in the center, surrounded by other people. Francis recognized Allistor with the flaming hair, grinning widely and holding a little baby. There were twins that were on either side of what Francis assumed was little Arthur, one messing up his hair and the other facepalming. There was another boy on Allistor's other side, with a lizard in his arms.

"That's me holding Peter, he's the youngest. Iggy's in the middle, and the twins are Patrick and Seamus, they're Irish. Dylan is holding tha' fukin iguana lizard dragon whatever the fuck tha' is. Peter's 12 now an' he still lives in London with Dylan, who we had to drag away from Wales."

"Oh mon dieu 'ow adorable!" Francis squealed, looking at the cute pout across little Arthur's features. "I'm ze oldest of my siblings, but zey are all younger. Seems zat we 'ave somezing in common. Michelle is 10 ans right now."

"Ye ain't gonna be sayin' adorable when ye see the next photo. When 'e was about sixteen or seventeen Artie went full on punk. Learned the guitar, pierced everything that could be pierced, would yell at me for no reason but he still does tha'." Allistor scrolled through his phone until he came across a photo of punk Arthur. He looked to be about 17 years old as Allistor had described, and was glaring at the camera. He was holding a guitar with the union flag on it, and was dressed in all black and leather. He was showing the camera the V sign, and Francis noticed that his nails were painted black with a skull and crossbones ring on the middle one. He had pierced eyebrows and lips, which were curled in a snarl. "About a second after tha' was taken he hit me with the bloody guitar." Allistor remembered, rubbing the back of his head.

"But zose piercings are obviously fake." Francis said, waving a hand around dismissively. "If zey were real zere would be a trace left."

"No they're real. I drove Iggy tae get 'em and when they stuck tha' needle through his lip he punched me." Allistor recalled, wincing at the memory. "Me little bro is obviously not violent in tha least."

"Non I can prove zat zey are fake." Francis said confidently, smirking a bit.

"An' how are you going tae do tha'?" Allistor responded, kicking Francis under the table, crossing his arms. "10 euro, pounds, dollars whatever Americans use tha' i'm right."

"D'accord." Francis responded, sashaying over to where Arthur was exiting the bathroom, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

"Oh hello there Francis why-" he started to question, but was cut off when Francis grabbed him and dipped him low to the ground, devouring his mouth with his own. Arthur was shocked but relaxed quickly, returning the passionate kiss.

"Oi don't mind me 'twas totally my plan for tonight tae watch me little brother eat face." Allistor interrupted them, rolling his eyes. The men separated, Arthur glaring at Allistor while Francis was wearing a satisfied smirk.

"I believe zat you owe me dix dollars, mon ami." he purred, looking quite smug.

"What?! Bloody impossible! No way mate I know it was real." Allistor sputtered as Francis and Arthur took their seats, Francis wrapping an arm around the Brit's shoulder and kissing him on the cheek.

"Non I didn't feel any traces. Mon ange was ze lip ring you 'ad as a teen real?" He asked Arthur who was staring off into the distance, mind obviously somewhere else.

"Hmm? Oh it was fake at the last second I decided to pierce my ears instead. Still hurt like hell though but I wore a fake one." he responded absentmindedly, then realized what the question was. "Hey wait a bloody minute how did you know I had a lip ring when I was younger?"

"Aha! J'ai gagné!(I won) Oh mon cher your frère was kind enough to show me some pictures of you when you were younger! You were très adorable as a petit garçon!" he cooed, smirking slightly when he saw Allistor go slightly pale. "Ze punk rock look iz very good on you." Arthur's hand began to slowly inch toward his knife, and Allistor stood up, nearly tripping over his chair.

"Artie calm down i'm yer brother!"

"I have four more I can live without one!" Arthur yelled, springing up as Allistor ran out the door.

"BYE IGGY AND FRAN JUST BE GLAD I DIDN'T SHOW HIM THE PICTURES FROM APRIL FOOLS BAR NIGHT!"

"Fran?" Francis questioned, furrowing his brows. "Oh mon dieu I don't zink I can deal with more nicknames."

"Not our fault your name is so bloody easy to make fun of." Arthur huffed, sitting back down once he was sure his brother had left the restaurant.

"If you say so Artie." the Frenchman teased.

"Hey at least my name isn't the name of my country." Arthur fired back, enjoying the playful bickering.

Francis rolled his cerulean eyes. "Try one zat I 'aven't 'eard before. My name means Frenchman, not France but it iz close. My last name means good faith."

"So you're Frenchman Goodfaith?" Arthur chortled, finding that new information hilarious for some reason.

"If you zink zat is 'ilarious you should 'ear Gilbert's middle name. 'Is full name is Gilbert Maria Beilschmidt. Whenever someone brings it up 'e yells somezing about 'ow it was a perfectly respectable name when it was given."

"That's pure gold. Remind me to thank him, Antonio, Lovino, Ludwig, Elizaveta, and Feliciano for agreeing to babysit the children. Now I can get revenge on Gilbert for that whole dinner issue. I still can't decide whether to thank the man or punch him in the face." Arthur remarked, laughing slightly at the thought of the tall, albino, loud German having a middle name like Maria.

"Oui it iz. Zey all love kids, Feli iz zere to provide food, Gilbert et Toni are kids, Eliza et Lovi are zere to make sure zat zeir 'usbands don't get drunk, and poor Ludwig iz zere to make sure zat everyone goes 'ome in one piece. I wouldn't worry about zat last bit I'm sure Eliza already did it for you." They stood up and walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, Francis opening the door for Arthur. Arthur looked around for his car, groaning when he realized it was gone.

"Oh bollocks I don't have a way to get home now." He groaned, facepalming. "I should have never handed my idiot brother the bloody keys."

"No worries mon amour you can stay at my 'ouse tonight." Francis purred, wiggling his brows suggestively. Arthur flushed red and tried to smack the flirtatious Frenchman on the arm, who danced around to avoid him, laughing. "Honhonhon mon petit lapin 'as a temper!" he teased, linking their arms once he was sure Arthur would not cause any damage to his face.

"I'm not your bloody rabbit." Arthur protested, shaking loose of the Frenchman's grip. "Why are you so goddamn- FRAncis!" The Brit yelped as he felt a hand grab his ass, and he turned around, slapping the arm of Francis, who could not seem to keep his hands to himself. "We're in public you wanker!"

"Oh je suis tellement désolé mon cher, I was not aware zat you could not touch ze artwork." Francis playfully apologized, cerulean eyes sparkling with mischief. Arthur huffed, turning his face away, attempting to hide red that was currently dusting his face.

"Git…" he mumbled, trying to hide his face in the collar of his shirt and failing. The comment did not escape Francis's notice and his eyebrows shot up, fake hurt crossing his face.

"Well zey certainly do flirting differently in Angleterre, non? I was not aware zat 'git, wanker, tosser, frog, and twit' are used as terms of endearment."

Arthur immediately turned back to his French boyfriend, horror crossing his face. He hadn't even thought about how sharp his tongue must appear to other people, as Amelia never seemed to notice or care. "Francis i'm so sorry about that i'll try to watch my language I didn't realize how much I swore and insulted you i'm so-" He was cut off as lips crashed into his own, effectively shutting him up.

"Mon lapin I was just teasing. Don't change for me, it is tres adorable when you get all red faced and start insulting moi. I know zat you don't mean it." He whispered, cupping Arthur's face softly and kissing the tip of his nose. They made their way to Francis's front steps, where they paused, Francis leaning in slightly and turning Arthur to face him. "Just a warning, it may be a bit, 'ow do you say in English… chaotic in zere." the door suddenly flew open, and Arthur stared up into the wildly grinning face of Gilbert, and the sounds of yelling, laughter and just general chaos.

 _Oh bloody hell…_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: MORE BTT BC I CAN

Gilbert was grinning wildly, hair messed up, with one of the boys on his shoulders.

"Hallo Frenchie und Britty! Zhe awesome me iz being even more awesome zhan usual und giving zhe kids plane rides!" he yelled, stepping aside to allow entry into the Frenchman's own house.

"Plane rides?" Arthur asked, mind a bit slow from the earlier kiss. Gilbert nodded, removing whom Arthur assumed to be Mattie, damn they were so IDENTICAL, from his shoulder and holding him by the legs with one hand supporting his chest, beginning to run across the house, yelling in German while Mattie laughed and shrieked, enjoying the game.

"Mein bruder can get a bit enthusiastic vith kids, sorry about zhat." a deep bass voice spoke from behind him, and Arthur turned around to see a harried looking Ludwig, Feliciano holding his hand and looking like he'd just drank an entire coffee shop.

"Oh West jou're just missing vhen I used to do zhat vith jou!" Gilbert exclaimed, setting Mattie down and tackling his little brother. "Ah I remember zhat! Jou used to alvays vant me to fly jou around." he sighed, falling back into memories. "But neiiiIIIIIiin jou just HAD to grow up to be zhe size of a fucking tank. At least I have someone else to do zhat to." He got off Ludwig and ran to Elizaveta's side, picking her up and twirling her.

"This reminds me of when-a my little fratello was only a couple years old." Lovino remarked from beside him, a glass of wine in his hands. Francis looked at the glass, brow furrowing.

"I zought zat I locked ze alcohol up…"

The Italian snickered, tossing Francis an unlocked lock. "You might want to get a new one. Good thing that the albino potato is too dumb to realize that it's opened."

"Oh nein I realized it's zhat Frenchy just haz wine and no good beer!" Gilbert yelled, Alfred and Feliciano on him. "Jesus christ Feli vhy zhe hell are jou so heavy?"

"I thought you two were twins?" Arthur asked, puzzled by his earlier remark.

"No there are three of us. Romeo, who's the youngest, Feliciano, and I'm the oldest."

"UND ZHE SHORTEST! KESEKESEKESE!" Gilbert yelled, narrowly avoiding a skillet to the face for his rudeness. Lovino scowled at Gilbert, sticking his tongue out at the German man, who replied likewise.

"Oui zere are trois of zem, and zey are all a pleasure to be around, I remember when Feli was a petit garçon!" Francis twittered, a dreamy smile on his face. Beside him Lovino frowned, a different memory brought to light.

"Do you mean that one time when he was about 12 and he visited your house? That was a horrible day."

"What happened?" Arthur asked, Francis wandering off to talk with Gilbert while Antonio and Feliciano played with the children.

"Well Feliciano visited the vino bastardo in his home in Corsica, and he found some books. He didn't know all the words, and of course when he found the word 'intercourse' Francis had to explain. IN DETAIL YOU BASTARD!" He yelled at Francis, who merely raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Arthur's face went pink and if he had water he would have spit it out. "You might be dating the biggest pervert in Europe." he concluded, swishing the wine around in his glass.

"Oh but mi tomate I have some stories to share about you!" Antonio smiled devilishly, while Lovino went tomato red and tried to strangle him before he could tell. They spent the rest of the night sharing stories from their childhood while Alfred and Matthew played upstairs. After a couple hours passed Arthur happened to look at the clock, facepalming.

"Oh bloody hell I don't have a way to get home. My idiot brother took the keys. Crap." He groaned, aware of how dark it was outside.

"Ve can drive jou if jou vant, but varning both of zhe Italians drive like zhey are in a race, und I don't zhink zhat Francy-pants likes zhat idea very much." Gilbert offered, ignoring the brothers protests about their driving, despite everyone else turning quite pale and nodding. Arthur stole a glance at Francis, catching a small pout crossing his face before he could compose it.

"Maybe, let me just check on the children first." Arthur responded, climbing the stairs. He knocked on the door to Matthew's room and after about a minute with no reply, opened it with Francis peeking over his shoulder and suppressing a squeal. Matthew and Alfred were both fast asleep on Matthew's bed, propped up against the wall and their stuffed animals with Matthew's head resting on Alfred's shoulder, and Alfred's head on Matthew's. Arthur couldn't stop a smile from making its way onto his face, and grabbed his phone to take a quick photo. Francis smiled at him, eyes half closed and a seductive smirk on his face as Arthur closed the door silently. "Not tonight there are kids in the house." Arthur hissed once it had closed, looking at his boyfriend while trying not to let disappointment show on his face. Francis opened his mouth to protest but shut it, scratching his chin in thought.

"Hmmmm you may be right about zat mon cher, I don't know about Alfred, but Matthieu iz a very light sleeper, and i'd 'ate for Alfred to be woken up by 'is pére screaming in pleasure." He said with a wink, laughing at how Arthur blushed red and smacked him on the arm.

"I'm starting to think Lovino was right." He hissed, still red in the face. Francis merely shrugged, smiling and planting a kiss on Arthur's cheek.

"Ah but you love me anyway! Besides, my simply charmant cousin 'as to be right about somezing in 'is life, non? Ozer zan when 'e agreed to marry Antonio." He remarked on as they made their way down the stairs, Arthur shaking his head when Ludwig raised the keys to the car, which were promptly snatched away by Feliciano. Lovino scowled at Francis, flipping the end of a silk scarf over his shoulder.

"I heard that, you vino bastardo." He was promptly picked up by a certain Spaniard bridal style, face going quite red.

"Ah but mi tomate i'm so glad that you said yes!" Antonio chirped, looking way too happy. Lovino scowled harder and rested his head on his husband's shoulder, amber green eyes closing slightly.

"What else would I have said? Te amo, Antonio." he mumbled, yawning slightly. Antonio grinned, kissing the Italian's forehead.

"Not a night person whatsoever." He mouthed at Arthur, smiling softly at the half asleep man in his arms. "You know, the first time he ever said a direct yes in English was when I asked him to marry me. Our first date was just 'when' our second 'what should I wear' but never the three letter word. I'm so glad he said it."

"Ve have to go, our flight is early in zhe morning und some of us still need to pack." Said Ludwig, tapping his foot and running a hand through his hair. "It vas very nice to meet jou, Arthur." Goodbyes were exchanged, Feliciano crying at the loss of his new friend and hugging Arthur so tightly he swore a rib cracked. Gilbert clapped Arthur on the back, shaking his hand with a large grin.

"It vas nice to meet jou, Britty. Treat Francy right over here, vill jou?"

"Will do… Maria." Arthur said with a sly smirk, laughing loudly when Gilbert's eyes went wide and he let out a betrayed screech, Elizaveta smacking the back of his head while also chuckling. After the last visitor had left they made their way up the stairs, the boards creaking beneath their feet.

"Sooooo… where is your guest room?" Arthur asked, fidgeting a bit. Francis laughed, the sound soft and comforting.

"Mon amour zere iz no guest room at zis moment. You will 'ave to sleep in my room, iz zat alright?"

"And let you sleep where?" Arthur asked as Francis opened the door to his bedroom. Francis raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and looked at Arthur, amusement clear on his face.

"In my bed, with you of course. Ze bed iz very large, et I can stay on my own end if you want me to. 'Ere, i'll get you some clothes and towels along with a robe in case you want to shower." he offered, going over to one of the closets in his room. He handed a very fluffy white towel, along with a silk robe and pants to Arthur, who accepted them wordlessly, walking into the adjoined bathroom and closing the door behind him, setting the items down on the marble counter. He took a moment to gape at the sheer amount of various bottles on the counter… was that makeup?

"Francis?"

"Oui, mon petit lapin?"

"Why the bloody fuck do you have makeup on your counter?" Arthur asked, fiddling with the knobs on the shower. Why the hell do they have to be so bloody complicated?

"Ze very pale one is for my middle sister, ze darker one is for ze youngest, and ze middle one may or may not be mine."

"You wear makeup?" Arthur chortled, clutching onto the edge of the counter to avoid falling over.

"Only ze makeup from France et it iz tone evening cream! Zere iz a difference!" Francis protested, embarrassment clear in his voice. "Ze blue and green bottle would be good for your 'air." Arthur rolled his eyes and picked the bottle up, groaning when he saw it was in French. It did smell very good though. After he finished and the mirror was all fogged up with steam, Arthur got dressed, shaking his head when he saw that the pants that Francis had given him had French flags embroidered on them.

"Francis I swear to god if you make one more joke about my arse being French territory i'll make sure you won't have an eiffel tower anymore!" He warned, chuckling slightly.

"Hon hon hon was zat a dirty joke? And you 'ave ze audacity to call me a pervert!" Francis teased, knocking on the door. "Get out already, I 'ave more 'air to wash zan you." Arthur pouted, drying his hair. He exited the bathroom, making sure to put the temperature for the shower on cold first, snickering. He was greeted with a kiss on the cheek and a playful pinch of his rear, to which Francis had to dodge a punch for.

"FrANcis why do you always feel the need to do that?" He protested, collapsing onto the bed and rolling over so he was on his back in the middle.

"Hon hon hon mon ange it iz because- AIIEE ARTHUR TOI SALAUD C'EST VRAIMENT FROID!" (you bastard it's really cold) Arthur heard Francis yelp, accompanied by several swears in French. Arthur laughed, a large grin stretching his face. His relationship with Francis was unlike any other he'd had with a guy before. Francis was sweet, caring, didn't mind Arthur's sharp tongue, and was perfectly fine with going slow. Arthur had dated a lot of people, both males and females, before finally settling down with a wife. Good thing his family had accepted him with open arms when he told them he was bisexual, and had never given him any shit for it other than a bit of lighthearted teasing. The door opened and Francis stepped out, a loose towel wrapped around his waist and hair dripping. Arthur's breath caught and his face turned bright red, turning away and trying not to drool.

"F-Francis put some clothes on! You're soaking!" He sputtered, stealing a glance at the Frenchman.

"Oh about zat I might 'ave forgotten my 'air towel and what I sleep in in zis room. Mind passing zem to me, s'il te plaît?" Arthur nodded and tossed a bundle of fabrics to Francis, who caught them with little effort. "Merci beaucoup, mon cher!" he chirped, shutting the door. Arthur collapsed into the wine coloured covers, taking up the whole bed. He heard the door open and a weight sit on the bed, a hand caressing the part of his cheek that was visible. "Arthur~" Francis sing-songed, lightly pushing the sleepy Brit. "You are taking up ze whole bed. Move, s'il te plaît?"

"Mmmmm… non." Arthur mumbled, cracking open his eyes and shifting his face to see Francis leaning over him, expression gentle and still damp hair in a braid, his bangs falling out to frame his face, the edges just tickling Arthur's face.

"D'accord." Francis whispered, picking up the Englishman, pulling the covers away and lying down, Arthur's head on his chest. Francis's fingers softly stroked Arthur's hair, and before he drifted off to sleep, he felt a feather light kiss on his forehead, along with whispered words that made his heart swell. "Bonne nuit, mon amour. Je t'aime."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Courts and Mornings

Arthur woke up on a soft pillow, the sheets tangled around his legs, muted sunlight making its way past his closed eyelids. A warm weight rested around his shoulders, and his pillow moved up and down, a slow, relaxed thump matching up with his own heartbeat. Wait why the fuck did his pillow have a heartbeat? Arthur opened his eyes to see that he was basically on top of a still sleeping Francis, legs twined together and his head on the Frenchman's chest, his arms wrapped securely around Arthur. After his initial moment of surprise, followed by a flushed face, Arthur relaxed and buried his face in Francis's chest, smiling when he felt the arms around him tighten and the beating of his heart speed up, echoing the beat of a drum. "Bonjour mon amour." Francis whispered, stretching slightly. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes you are an incredibly comfortable pillow." Arthur replied, sitting up and yawning loudly, rubbing his eyes. "What bloody time is it?" He asked, flopping back on the bed, ignoring Francis's grunt of pain as his arm was squashed. He checked the time, as well as the date. It was August 25th, and they were due at court at noon. "Get up you frog." Arthur poked Francis, who croaked in response but got up, untying his braid and shaking his golden waves loose.

"Can you wake up ze garçons, s'il vous plaît? I'll make zem food after i'm ready." He asked, looking at Arthur with wide, pleading eyes. Arthur nodded, walking to Matthew's room and opening the door. The boys were still asleep, but had shifted so that they were lying down, side by side with Alfred's arm covering Matthew's face.

"Alfred. Matthew. Get up boys it's time for breakfast." At the word breakfast Alfred bolted up, nearly falling off the bed. Large blue eyes blinked owlishly at his surroundings, before finding his father standing in the doorway. The boy sprung up, running to his dad and tackling him with a hug.

"Good morning! Why am I at Mattie's? Why is he still asleep? DID I HEAR BREAKFAST?!" He yelled, having way too much energy for so early in the day. Matthew obviously thought so too, for a groan came from the bed. Violet eyes cracked open blearily, and the boy yawned widely, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Alfie? Arthur? Quelle heure est-il?(what time is it) Où est papa?" He asked, getting up and walking to Arthur, dragging his bear behind him. Arthur raised his large eyebrows, not understanding the majority of what the boy just said.

"English please?"

"What time iz it and where is papa?" Matthew repeated, switching to a language Arthur could understand. His accent was a lot less pronounced now, but it was still hard for him to hold complicated conversations and often times Francis still had to translate.

"It's the morning, and it's 10 am. Your papa is still getting ready, and we need to go to the court in about two hours." Arthur answered, stepping out of the doorway to allow the boys make their way downstairs, Alfred sliding on the railing, and Matthew on his heels.

"What's for breakfast?" Asked Alfred, the ever hungry child. "Mattie was telling me about this thing that Francy makes called crêpes can we have that?" Matthew nodded, looking up at Arthur, who began to look through the cabinets, searching for ingredients and starting to make them.

"Bonjour Matthieu et Alfred! Mon cher what are you doing… ARTHUR NON NON NON GET AWAY FROM ZE KITCHEN!" Francis shrieked, shooing Arthur away from the stove, taking the batter away from the Englishman and frantically turning the heat down. "Mon dieu zat iz not flour zat iz fine sugar!"

Arthur shrugged sheepishly, resting his head on Francis's shoulder as the other man emptied out the bowl and started from scratch. "Oops? I don't get why you don't let me cook." he grumbled, snaking his hands under Francis's elbows and folding them over his stomach.

Francis leaned into the other's touch, still stirring the new batter. "Parce que, I won't forget your attempt at making pasta anytime soon. You nearly gave poor Lovino a 'eart attack!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Oh please you're so bloody dramatic. That was one time in two months and if your cousin hadn't startled me it would have been fine. Speaking of, what jobs do they have that lets them visit America for nearly two months?"

"Lovino iz a lawyer who designs rather 'igh end clothes in 'is spare time, Antonio runs an animal 'ospital which can manage without 'im for so long, Feliciano iz considered one of ze best Italian chefs in Berlin and iz only hired to cook for very expensive parties, Ludwig iz a mechanic, 'is shop can run without 'im for a while, 'e trained 'is employees well. Gilbert iz a musician, and so iz Elizaveta." Francis explained, flipping the crêpes in the skillet, tossing them up and catching them. A devious little smirk crossed Francis's face as he turned down the heat and poured more batter on it, preparing to make another one. Arthur raised his face to watch how his boyfriend flipped the crêpe, tossing it higher and higher until…

"BLOODY HELL!"

"Oops… désolé mon cher, let me clean zat up for you." Francis purred as he looked at the delicious treat on the Englishman's face, grabbing it with his teeth and beginning to eat it. He might have 'accidentally' kissed him a few times.

"You idiot did you really toss a fucking pancake on me so that you would have an excuse to do that?"

"Maybe…"

"Well if you are going to kiss me, do it right." Arthur snapped, spinning Francis around and grabbing his face, straightening up to capture the lips of the slightly taller man.

"MATTIEEeeeeeee! They're kissing!" Alfred whined, poking his head around the corner and making a fake gagging sound, pantomiming throwing up. A small hand darted around to hit Alfred on the head lightly, as well as a snort of exasperation. "What? I'm hungry!" he protested, vanishing as Matthew spoke up, what he said not heard by the adults.

They separated, a light blush dusting Arthur's cheeks while the Frenchman just looked smug. "Get that bloody look off your face, frog." He grumbled, blushing harder. Francis raised an eyebrow and laughed, hugging the Brit.

"Why don't you set ze table and i'll bring out ze food?" Francis suggested, grabbing some plates and shoving them into Arthur's hands. As they ate Arthur looked at the soft look of love in Francis's eyes as he corrected Matthew's pronunciation, and the pride and love on both of their faces. Arthur swore that he would not let this little family be torn apart, courts be damned.

~Time skip~

"Silence!" The banging of the gavel interrupted the trial, and Arthur paused, midway to flipping Emilise off. "We will resume in five minutes, then Mr. Kirkland will present his side." the judge ordered, standing up and walking out of the room. Arthur growled and stalked to Francis's side, where the Frenchman was sitting, head bowed. Matthew was sitting on his lap, clutching onto the thin lapels of his suit jacket as if he would be taken from his father. Alfred stood beside them, looking fairly worried.

"Wow look at you. Are you crying? You really are a sissy you know that right?" A nasally whine jeered, and Francis stood up, placing his hands over Matthew's ears before responding.

"And you really are a 'orrible person. Va te faire enculer." (Go fuck yourself) He spat in Emilise's direction, not even looking at her.

"Ma'am please go away, you are bothering my client, and quite frankly, traumatizing everyone in the room." Arthur said, trying to refrain from calling her every insult he knew. But to be fair, he was a gentleman, and was raised not to swear at ladies, even though the person standing in front of him could hardly qualify as a lady. Alfred and Matthew were hiding behind the two males, Alfred peeking out from behind Arthur and sticking his tongue out at Emilise. She replied likewise and returned to her seat, flipping Francis off on her way back.

"Merci." Francis whispered, shoulders slumping forward and bangs falling over his face. "Ze judge iz probably going to give 'er custody."

"No. I still have an ace up my sleeve, you'll soon see." Arthur reassured, giving Francis a quick kiss on the cheek. "Don't say that, that's a load of tosh. We'll win this." Francis shot the Brit a confused look, tilting his head to the side but not arguing with him. The judge reentered the courtroom, and Arthur stepped up.

"Mr. Kirkland your turn to speak. Why should Mr. Bonnefoy get primary custody of the boy and not Ms. Williams?" The judge asked, looking at Arthur over her glasses.

"Well your honor," Arthur began. "I have spent a fair amount of time with Mr. Bonnefoy, and have seen how he interacts with his son."

"A fair amount of time?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Our sons have grown quite close, and as a result so have we."

"In a relationship?"

"Yes your honor though I swear that my relationship with Mr. Bonnefoy has not impaired my judgement at all." Arthur promised, shaking his head and looking at Francis. The judge shrugged but allowed the case to continue, and Arthur could have sworn one of the members of the jury mouthed 'told you so' at the woman sitting next to her. "Mr. Bonnefoy has a very close relationship with his son, while Matthew's relationship with Ms. Williams is as far as I can see, non existent. I have deemed that Matthew is mature enough for his opinion to be considered, and If your honor may allow it, you can ask him yourself." She nodded, allowing Francis to lead Matthew up to the stand, holding his polar bear for him.

"Matthew who would you like to have primary custody of you and live with until you are of legal age?" The judge asked in a kind tone, smiling at Matthew and leaning slightly toward him. Matthew furrowed his brow and looked at the judge, then back at Arthur.

"I forgot to mention that Matthew speaks mostly French, and is in the process of learning English. I did request an interpreter so we can get his full opinion, and not just what he can say." Arthur called the interpreter up who repeated the question in French, then translated Matthew's reply.

"He says that he would like to live with Mr. Bonnefoy, and would rarely, if possible not at all, see Ms. Williams."

"Why?"

The translator paused when he heard Matthew's response, and Francis was on his feet in a second, eyes flashing with fury. "You. did. WHAT." he snarled at his ex wife, who looked confused. "'Ow could you leave 'im by 'imself? 'E iz a petit garçon! 'E iz not old enough to stay 'ome alone!" Francis yelled at Emilise, prompting whispers in the jury and a banging of the gavel.

"Silence! Mr. Bonnefoy please refrain from yelling in my courtroom." she ordered, looking at Francis.

"Désolé." Francis apologized, sitting back down and looking a bit ashamed of himself.

"Now what was the response that caused such a reaction from Mr. Bonnefoy?" She questioned, looking at Matthew with some concern.

The interpreter nodded, looking at Emilise and shook his head. "Matthew said that his mother hates him. He described how when they were still living in Canada, when Mr. Bonnefoy left for work Ms. Williams would leave too, leaving the boy at home for an entire day. He would often beg his dad to take him to work so he wouldn't have to stay by himself."

"You left a five year old at home by himself and you still expect custody of him?" The judge questioned Emilise in disbelief.

"Hey he needs a mother! Francis can't raise him by himself and I have a new partner to raise him with! Also, the language difference won't matter that much because my boyfriend's brother speaks French." Emilise protested, pointing an accusing finger at Francis. "Who are you gonna take care of the kid with? Your idiot boyfriend? He can't grow up like that!"

"I wouldn't be so confident of that statement if I were you." Arthur snarled, dangerously close to losing his temper. "Your honor, may I call someone up to the stand?" the judge nodded and Arthur smirked, gesturing for a figure in a dark windbreaker with a hood to come up to the stand.

"Who's this pathetic loser?" Emilise taunted, rolling her eyes. The person chuckled and removed the windbreaker, tossing it over his shoulder to reveal a bomber jacket, tan skin covered in tattoos, pierced lips that were curled in a smirk, and bright crimson eyes.

"Heeeeey dollface." Emilise's boyfriend, Allen, drawled.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Alleeeeeeeeeeeeeeen

Arthur had never felt more satisfied in his life than when he saw how Emilise's eyes widened and jaw drop. "Allen! Baby what are you doing here?" She twittered in panic, fear evident in her voice. Francis stood up, glaring daggers at Allen.

"What is your full name?"

"Allen Liberty Jones."

"Relationship to either Ms. Williams or Mr. Bonnefoy?"

"I'm the one she cheated on her husband with. Arthur asked me to come up here and speak for him. And to Francis, i'm really, really sorry." He angled his head toward Francis, genuine apology in his eyes. "I didn't know she was married. Whenever she was with me, in the entire four years she either referred to you as a friend or an ex. She never wore the ring." Francis looked shocked, sitting back down. Arthur smiled faintly, glad that Allen had kept his word.

~A couple days earlier~

Arthur double checked the address, this was it. Getting the address of Emilise's boyfriend was no easy task but Arthur was determined to track him down, and so here he was. The house was fairly grand, with a pickup truck and a sleek sports car parked in the driveway, but no trace of Emilise's yellow car. Muffled yelling grew louder as he approached the front door, the only words clear being the occasional swear or name. The Brit raised his fist to knock but before he could the door swung open. "OI HOSER I'M GOING TO THE SHOOTING RANGE IF YOU FUCK UP ANY OF MY SHIT I'LL USE MY HOCKEY STICK TO BEAT YOUR FACE IN!" A man yelled over his shoulder, then noticed Arthur standing there. "Hello. Do you need anything?" He asked in a bored tone, stubbing out his cigarette. He had emotionless violet eyes and choppy blonde hair tied in a low ponytail, stubble on his jaw and a ragged flannel, opened a couple buttons to reveal a bandaged chest.

"Are you Allen L. Jones?" Arthur asked, looking at the name written on a slip of paper that he held in his hand.

The blonde man scowled, rolling his eyes. "What did my imbécile of a brother do now?" he asked with a sigh. "ALLEN!"

"WHAT?!"

"THE COPS ARE HERE AGAIN WHO THE FUCK DID YOU FIGHT THIS TIME?!"

"I'm not a cop." Arthur said, a bit puzzled. "I'm here because I need to ask Mr. Jones a couple questions, Mr…"

"NEVERMIND HE'S NOT A COP and it's Williams. Matt Williams. Allen is my brother." Matt introduced himself, shaking Arthur's hand. "C'mon in he's somewhere down the hall in the living room." He opened the door and stepped out of the way, walking down the driveway to enter the pickup truck and drive away. Arthur made his way into the house, entering a large living room where a man was draped over the couch, tapping a baseball bat against the table, watching hockey. A team scored and he yelled in frustration, smashing the bat against the coffee table, causing a rather large crack.

"Fuck Matt's gonna kill me." he groaned, then saw Arthur. "Oh hey. You're the cop who's not a cop right?" He asked, smirking wide enough for Arthur to see that he had a canine missing. He got up and made his way over to where the Englishman was standing, and Arthur noticed that the man was taller than him.

"Yes and you must be Mr. Jones, correct? I just have a couple things to ask you if you don't mind." Arthur shuffled around, intimidated by Allen's height and appearance. Allen raised a pierced eyebrow and stuck out his hand for a handshake, rolling his scarlet eyes.

"British huh? Call me Allen, Mr. Jones sounds weird as fuck. Oh shit you aren't going to poison me for swearing are you? Do you also carry around a swear jar?" Allen suddenly asked, retracting his hand and looking at Arthur. Arthur furrowed his large eyebrows in question, looking at Allen incredulously.

"Why the bloody fuck would I poison you? I'm just here to ask you a couple questions about Emilise."

Allen sat back down on the couch, gesturing for Arthur to also take a seat and offering him a bottle of beer, which Arthur politely declined. "Ah so you know my little dollface? Did you also go to college with her in France or some shit?" He asked, taking a swig of his beer. "We've been dating for about four years, and when I moved down here from where I was living with my brother Matt up in Canada, she moved in with me a couple years ago. Before we met she had a kid with this guy she met in France, and he won't give the kid to her. Don't know his name but he seems to have something against Em. Great girlfriend, always faithful and good fun." he reflected, grinning. Arthur cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"About that… I'm actually the lawyer and boyfriend of her ex-husband, Francis Bonnefoy. He's the father of her child and they were married for five years, divorcing a couple months ago after he found out that she had been cheating on him… with you." As soon as the words left his mouth Allen sprung up, looking positively furious.

"What?! You lying son of a bitch don't lie to me! I know Em and she would never do that what right do you have to come into my house and accuse my girl of cheating!" He fumed, picking up his bat and glaring at the Englishman. Arthur remained unfazed at the American's aggression and took a couple papers out of his folder and handed them to Allen, expression sympathetic and not fearful like Allen was expecting.

"I'm very sorry that you had to find out like this, but it's the truth. Francis and Emilise are currently engaged in a very furious custody battle over their son, Matthew. I've come to ask you about if you think she would be a good mother." Allen took the papers, which were revealed to be photographs and snarled, seeing pictures from their wedding and Francis with Emilise, even checking the dates on the back to see if the Brit was trying to trick him. He sat back down, placing his head in his hands and tugging at his red-brown hair.

"That lying bitch… what else has she lied about…" He growled, straightening up and glaring at nothing in particular. He looked at Arthur, red eyes filled with rage but also thankfulness. "I hate liars. I hate cheaters. Thank you for telling me. And to answer your question, she is irresponsible as fuck and she can't take care of my brother's pets, much less a kid." His mouth suddenly twisted into a sly smirk and he looked up at Arthur. "I can come with you to testify about how Francis should get Matthew."

The men shook hands, each of their faces twisting in almost identical smirks.

~Present time~

"In my opinion, as her now FORMER boyfriend, Francis should get the kid. She is extremely irresponsible and can hardly take care of pets, much less kids. All she talked about was the money that she would get from child support when the topic of Matthew came up. Hell, the only reason I know his name is because when Arthur approached me, he mentioned it." Allen finished, smirking as Emilise's jaw dropped.

"FORMER!" Emilise shrieked at Allen, who raised his brow, fake pouting.

"You heard me bitch. I don't wanna be with a lying bitch who can't take care of a fucking dog, much less a kid."

"Language Mr. Jones." The judge reprimanded, trying to stop her lips from forming a smile as Emilise began to cry. "Now a question for Ms. Williams." She leaned across the podium, taking off her glasses and rubbing her temple. "Ms. Williams. From what i've heard today, you hardly care for this child, to the point where I have half the mind to arrest you for neglect. Is there any reason you want this precious gift that is a child other than money?" Emilise opened and closed her mouth like a fish, trying to come up with a response.

"B-because I care for Madeline!" she stuttered desperately, glancing around the room for support like a deer in headlights.

"MATTHEW!" The judge yelled, Francis's, Arthur's, Alfred's, and Matthew's voices mixing with her's. "Well that fucking settles it. Mr. Jones i'm the judge I get a pass for swearing." she said as Allen opened his mouth to reprimand her for swearing, then closed it. "I grant Mr. Francis Bonnefoy sole custody of Matthew Williams." She ordered, banging her gavel down with a smile gracing her face. Matthew shrieked with joy, jumping into his father's arms as Francis picked him up and spun him around, before hugging him close, nearly crying with relief. Emilise stood at her place, shocked, before her face twisted and she turned to Allen, who was still up at the stand.

"Allen… Baby please…" She whimpered, desperation clear in her eyes and tone. Allen smirked down at her, placing his hands in his pockets.

"Oh no no no dollface. It's not baby anymore. I want your stuff out by tomorrow noon. Bye bye bi- wait no bas- dammit. Bye bye Emilise!" he cooed, waving at her teasingly. Emilise's face twisted in rage and she looked over the stands at Arthur, who was watching Francis with a soft smile, Alfred hugging his legs while also grinning happily at Matthew.

"YOU ASSHOLE!" She yelled, running over to him and dodging the bailiff, who tried to restrain her but was too slow. Arthur shoved Alfred behind him as she leapt onto him, managing to land a couple frantic punches on his face before she was pulled off by the bailiff. "You cost me my boyfriend, home and child!" She shrieked, trying to get out of the hold.

"Don't touch my daddy!" Alfred yelled as he ran up to her and began hitting her with his little fists, before he was dragged off by Arthur, who was also trying to stop Francis from going over and beating the shit out of his ex wife.

"ENOUGH!" The judge yelled, banging her gavel furiously before giving up and tossing it aside, standing up and putting her hands around her mouth to form a megaphone. "EVERYBODY SHUT THE HELL UP!" everyone froze and looked up at the judge, who sat down, glaring "Emilise Williams I charge you with assault and battery, contempt in court, and child neglect. You have proven to be very unstable, and you will spend some time in the cells below until we find the time to negotiate your sentence." She ordered, standing up and striding to the double doors, kicking them open and yelling "FUCK YOU BITCH JUDGE OUT!", striding through the doors dramatically. Her assistant hurried behind her and a 'your honor no!' and 'DAMMIT CAROL' were heard as Emilise was led out in handcuffs, and everyone celebrated.

Alfred with Matthew in tow ran up to Allen, who was standing with Matt who had entered shortly after the judge exited near the back, hands in his pockets as he looked at the scene with a soft smile. "Thanks Mr. Allen!" Alfred chirped, running up to Allen and tightly hugging him, as Allen froze but then smiled, crouching and returning the hug.

"You must be Matthew, right?" Matt asked Matthew, looking at him curiously.

"O-oui. Je m'appelle Matthew." Matthew softly stuttered, his shyness making an appearance. A look of surprise crossed Matt's face before he smiled, crouching down and extending his large hand to the six year old.

"Bonjour Matthieu, je m'appelle Matt. Je ne savais pas que vous parlez Français." (I didn't know you spoke French) He said, Matthew's face breaking into a smile at hearing French and his shyness fading away as he jabbered excitedly in the language, Matt responding to him. Francis and Arthur stood behind them, Francis's arm around the Brit's waist. Matt and Francis laughed at something Matthew said, looking at Allen and Alfred.

"Now zat 'e mentioned it, I notice it. Do you agree, mon amour?" Francis nodded, scratching his stubble chin thoughtfully. "Oh right, I forgot zat you don't speak Français." He remembered as Arthur glanced at him questioningly. "Matthieu pointed out 'ow Allen et Alfred look similar."

Alfred and Allen looked at each other, Alfred laughing and touching the cowlick in his own hair, pointing at a lock of red-brown hair that stuck straight up on Allen's head. "Look Mr. Allen! We both have this! Cool!" Allen grinned, looking down at the small child. "Thank you Allen! You're a hero!" Alfred suddenly hugged the adult again with all his might, repeating a chant of "thank you thank you thank you". Allen suddenly shrugged off his ww2 era bomber jacket and kneeled down, placing it around the child's shoulders.

"Keep it. It's almost new, and it's the least I can do for such an awesome kid." He said, chuckling as Alfred turned around in the enormous jacket, a look of wonder on his face as he admired his new gift.

"Cool! Daddy look there's a 50 on the back and a plane on the side! Look look look there's fur and a star!" He squealed, Matthew running forward to pet the fur and look at the details Alfred pointed out.

"No really it's the least I can do, he's a really good kid and you told me about her cheating." Allen said as Arthur opened his mouth. "I have one that's nearly identical to this one."

"I was going to thank both you and your brother, both for helping us with the case and for getting along so well with the boys, but it's fantastic that you possess so many bomber jackets." Arthur thanked them, resting his head on Francis's shoulder.

"Pas de problème. Matthew's a pretty neat kid, and I'm glad that he ended up with a good father. If you ever need a sitter, my brother and I volunteer." The men shook hands and exchanged numbers, Francis hugging both warmly and thanking them. Francis took Arthur's and Matthew's hands, Alfred taking Arthur's other hand and walked out to a new chapter of his life, one without cheating wives and drama, instead with a loving boyfriend and lovely son.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Talking croissants

"Ugh..Il est trop tôt!" (It's too early) Complained Francis as he and Arthur made their way up a hill in the park to look at the sunrise. It had been roughly two years since they had met, and the cold March wind bit through their coats, making the couple shiver. Actually, Arthur was shivering about something else, and was grateful for the cold as an excuse.

"Oh belt up frog we're nearly there." The Englishman snapped, burying his face in his scarf and squeezing the Frenchman's hand. Arthur had dragged a reluctant Francis out for a morning walk, insisting that the now eight year olds Matthew and Alfred would be fine by themselves for a couple hours in the morning. "Look. The sun will rise soon." Arthur pointed out as they reached the top of the hill, gazing out to where the sky was streaked with reds and orange, showing the promise of a new day.

"It iz nozing I 'aven't seen before. Ze sunrise over ze cliffs of Corsica iz très belle, remind me to take you to France sometime." Francis remarked, putting his hands in the pockets of his overcoat and taking a deep breath, slight wind blowing his golden hair away from his face. Arthur took a deep breath to steel himself, it was now or never.

"Look darling a talking croissant!" He exclaimed, frantically pointing in the other direction.

"Quoi?" Francis asked, head whipping around to follow Arthur's hand. "Mon cher zere iz nozing zere, you must be tired..." he shook his head, slowly turning back to his boyfriend. "Oh mon dieu!" Francis gasped, hand flying up to his lips. Arthur was on one knee in the grass before him, taking the hand that remained at the Frenchman's side and clasping it in both of his own.

"Francis." Arthur began, his voice low and laced with the most exquisite accent. "Tu es l'amour de ma vie. Vous me complétez, et j'espère que je ferai la même chose pour vous. Je t'aime. Francis Bonnefoy, mon amour, mon ange... veux-tu m'épouser?" He asked, letting go of Francis's hands to take a small black box out of his pocket and opening it to reveal a rose gold ring with a large diamond set in the center. (You are the love of my life. You complete me, and I hope I do the same for you. I love you. Francis Bonnefoy, my love, my angel… will you marry me?)

Francis began to cry, tears pouring out of his sapphire eyes as he nodded, throwing himself onto Arthur. "Oui! Oui! A million times yes!" He cried, embracing his fiancé. A few overjoyed tears began to trace their way down Arthur's face as he beamed, slipping the ring onto his love's finger. As soon as the ring was on Francis grabbed Arthur and kissed him, both kneeling in the grass as the sun painted the sky above them, showing their love for the world to see.

The need for air separated them and Francis stood up, carrying the other in his arms. "Je t'aime Arthur." Francis whispered softly, the ends of his bangs just brushing Arthur's face. "You do realize zat when people ask who iz ze girl I'm still going to say you, right?"

Arthur groaned, head resting on Francis's shoulder. "Bloody hell I hoped that you would forget about that. Why do I have to be the girl? You're the one with the long hair!"

"Hon hon hon mon lapin but everybody knows zat I've got ze biggest-"

"FrANcis!" They laughed as they walked home together, hands entwined and rings glinting in the morning light. Unknown to at least one of them, a certain French-Canadian man crouched in the bushes, cigarette dangling from his lips and a large camera around his neck, wiping away tears.

As they approached Francis's house they spotted a dark figure on the porch, a baseball bat slung across his shoulder and a smartphone in his hands. "Hey Art! How'd it go?" Allen asked in his strong New York accent and with a grin, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his red-brown head. "Do I need to beat anyone's face in with a bat?" Arthur laughed and shook his head, holding up his hand while Francis's jaw dropped.

"Tu savais?!" (you knew)

"Both of us did, actually. Who do you think helped Arthur translate?" A bored voice broke in and Francis turned his head to see Matt leaning against the railing, smoking with a camera hanging on a strap around his neck, limp hair gathered into a messy ponytail and dull violet eyes smirking with amusement. "He asked me to take pictures." He showed the camera to Allen who took one look and started rubbing his eyes furiously.

"Fuck you Matt you're making me soft dammit." He growled, placing his glasses over his red eyes. Matt snorted, blowing smoke in his twin's face before extinguishing the cigarette.

"Hey dickwad who do you think took the fucking pictures? I cried my eyes out like a little girl too, but unlike you I'm not a pansy and am willing to admit it." The newly engaged Arthur chuckled and clapped Allen on the back.

"Thank you so much for helping me with this, I couldn't have done it without you." Arthur thanked Matt, shaking his hand with tears in his eyes. Matt smiled softly, quite a rare sight.

"De rien. I had to make sure it was translated correctly, but the ring was the correct choice. Now aren't there certain kids inside that have to receive the news? I have to print out the pictures and this idiot is driving." He hinted, grabbing his brother's arm and dragging him down the steps despite his protests.

Francis and Arthur walked into the house hand in hand, climbing the stairs together.  
"You know mon cher," Francis began "since we are getting married, 'ow would you and Alfie like to live 'ere? You do spent 'alf of ze time 'ere." He offered, twirling the ends of his hair around.

"That would be lovely." Arthur replied, blushing lightly. The boys did have sleepovers every other day, and spent nearly all of their time together. Arthur often stayed himself, so much that the toothbrush resting on Francis's counter was used more often than his one at home, and you would almost always see two book bags when you walked through the door.

Francis knocked on his son's door, hearing two identical groans respond. Two heads popped up as he opened it, Alfred yawning and getting out of his, rubbing his eyes. Francis had decided to move the spare bed into Matthew's room after the sleepovers had become more often than not, fed up with entering in the mornings and finding one of the boys on the floor.

"Hi dad." Alfred said glumly, staring at the floor. "Do we have to go home? Can't I stay a bit longer?" He pleaded, Matthew dragging himself out of bed to stand next to the other boy, rubbing his eyes with one hand and the other holding his bear.

"Alfred you are 'ome." Francis stated with a grin, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "I 'ope you don't mind sharing a room with your frère." Alfred just looked confused while Matthew looked shocked, startled into awareness.

"Quoi?"

"On va se marier!" Francis shouted, beaming as he showed the hand that was hidden behind his back, grabbing Arthur and kissing him. (We are getting married)

The boys yelled in happiness as Alfred grabbed Matthew and began to dance around the room with him, shouting "MATTIE MATTIE MATTIE YOU'RE MY BROTHER NOW! AWESOME!" Both of them tackled the couple in bear hugs, beaming grins on all of their faces.

"Arthur?" Matthew asked, looking up at Arthur. "If you and papa are getting married, can I call you dad?" He asked, hopeful amethyst eyes meeting emerald ones. Arthur nodded, hugging the boy. "Merci beaucoup dad." Matthew said, embracing his new stepfather.

"If Mattie is calling dad dad, can I call you papa?" Alfred asked, Francis nearly crying out of happiness at that simple request.

"Bien sûr mon cher Alfred. Now we 'ave to tell everyone." Francis remembered, a sly smirk curling the edges of his lips. "But I will need your 'elp." He began to tell the plan to the others, trying his best to keep a straight face despite the kids howling with laughter and Arthur screaming 'you want to do bloody WHAT?'

Francis set his laptop down on the edge of the coffee table, sitting so he could just be seen, but Arthur, who was standing to the side, could not. He made a group video call to all of his friends, planning to tell his sisters and Arthur's family separately. Gilbert and Elizaveta's faces appeared on one third of the screen, Feliciano's and Ludwig's blinked into existence next to them, and Antonio along with Lovino followed soon after.

"Buongiorno vino bastardo."

"Hola Francis!"

"Guten Morgen Francis. Izn't it very early zhere?"

"Sup Frenchy!"

"Ve~ Ciao!"

"Jó reggelt Francis!" they all greeted in a mix of languages, faces cheerful with the exception of Lovino, who was scowling as usual. Francis hung his head, biting his lip to stop a smile.

"Salut mes amis." He replied without his usual flair, needing to appear sad and disinterested. "I 'ave some news." He took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling dramatically. "Arthur et moi… are no longer dating." multiple screams and questions greeted this, as well as the shattering of something.

"CHE COSA? COME MAI?!" Lovino yelled, springing up from where he was sitting and running off screen, still yelling in rapid-fire Italian while his husband yelled for him to come back. "GET ME THE FASTEST FLIGHT VERSO GLI STATI UNITI ADESSO!" the Italian screamed on the phone, repeating himself in French, German, and Spanish when the person on the phone did not respond within five seconds.

"¡Lovi cálmese por favor!" Antonio pleaded, getting up and trying to wrestle the phone away from Lovino.

"VHAT? But vhy? I zought zhat jou vere perfectly happy!" Gilbert protested, sad look morphing into anger. "DID HE HURT JOU? I'LL KILL HIM!" he roared, Elizaveta not stopping him but crying about the loss of her otp. Arthur watched offscreen, happy but also mildly terrified at how Francis's friends reacted to the Frenchman possibly being hurt.

"Non non it's not like zat!" Francis protested, Lovino nearly drowning him out with yelling.

"IF THAT BASTARDO HURT MIO CUGINO I WILL MAKE PASTA OUT OF HIM DAMMIT I ACTUALLY LIKED THIS ONE!"

"LOVINO CALM DOWN BLOODY HELL YOU DIDN'T LET HIM FINISH WE'RE GETTING MARRIED NOW PUT DOWN THE RAPIER!" Arthur shouted, running to where he could be seen on the screen. "We're getting married." He repeated softly, Francis holding up his hand to display the ring. "I proposed to him today."

Stunned silence greeted this, before Lovino screamed in a mixture of relief and anger, throwing down his smartphone hard enough to form a crater. "You fucking bastard of a Frenchman." He spat, trying to scowl but ending up smiling.

"'E proposed to me en Français!" Francis squealed, grabbing his fiancè and hugging him tightly. Elizaveta swooned and fell back onto her own husband, who caught her with a yell of 'ANOZHER FANGIRL MOMENT? REALLY?'

"Congratulations. I vish jou happiness in jour marriage." Ludwig congratulated, a rare smile on his usually stoic face as his excitable husband bounced around the frame, talking nonstop.

"I CALL BEING ZHE BEST MAN KESEKESEKESE!" Gilbert shouted, grinning victoriously.

"I wanted to be the best man!" Antonio protested, green eyes wide and pouting.

"Nein jou vere zhe best man last time. Jesus Frenchie jour zhe first in everyzhing between us. First to move countries, first to get married, first to have a kid, first to have two weddings und zhe only one to do zhat, first to die… OW LIZZIE VHERE ZHE HELL ARE JOU GETTING ALL ZHE FRYING PANS?"

"I now have a daddy and a papa it's awesome!" Alfred squealed, jumping from behind the couch to land on Francis, Matthew following and landing on Arthur. "Hey Mr. Lovi why are you sad?" He asked innocently, seeing Lovino skulking at the corner of the screen. In reality Lovino was trying to hide his beaming smile at his cousin getting married to a great guy, but his head snapped up and he decided to play along.

"Che? Oh! Well ragazzo, your padre scared me very badly with the way that he said that they were getting married, and now i'm sad. But you know what will make me molto felice? If Francis lets me plan his honeymoon. HINT HINT HINT." He widened his amber-green eyes at Francis, putting on a winning smile.

"So subtle…" Francis muttered under his breath but gave in with a sigh, smiling fondly at Arthur. "D'accord Lovino. As ze Americans say, go nuts."

Lovino allowed himself a victorious smirk before settling back in his usual scowl, although the light in his eyes betrayed his happiness. "Tch. As if I care. Oi potato bastardo!"

"Ja?" Ludwig asked, looking fairly nervous as his husband's brother addressed him. Their relationship had only improved since Feliciano and Ludwig got married, with Lovino being the one to give Feliciano away and always being supporting, although he still called Ludwig names.

"Since you're the only one of these bastards that's organized and that I can stand, you'll be my assistant. I would ask Eliza, but I don't need blood and fainting everywhere" He explained, glaring at the German. "And incase you thought that was a request, it's not. You're helping me even if I have to drag you to Barcelona by your foot."

"It vould be a pleasure." Ludwig responded, nodding his head. Francis and Arthur looked at each other, pure joy and love in the sapphire and emerald orbs. They were finally getting married.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: You may now kiss the Brit

Arthur was in heaven. He and Francis had decided on a July wedding, close enough to the boy's birthdays with them but so that they could spend Francis's birthday, which fell on the 14th, on their honeymoon. They were currently relaxing in their bedroom, Arthur reading a book while lying on Francis's lap, the Frenchman sketching something in his notebook, pencil tucked behind his ear and using the Brit's head as a place to rest his notebook. The door suddenly burst open and Lovino barged in, rolled up papers under his arms and pens sticking out of his shirt pocket, complete with a light in his eyes that slightly scared Arthur. "Ciao tutti now listen up bastards!" He yelled, Ludwig following behind him and carrying an easel and corkboard, setting up while Lovino clapped his hands together, glaring at the couple.

"Lovino what is all of this?" Arthur asked, looking at what Ludwig was setting up.

"Just be glad zhat Antonio convinced him to drop zhe fünfzehn slide powerpoint presentation." Ludwig grumbled, Lovino sticking his tongue out at the German.

"Alright so you vino bastard let me arrange your honeymoon, and i'd be damned if mio cugino gets anything less than the very best. By the way, none of you are getting any presents other than this, because we are all paying." He started, waving his hands when Arthur started to protest. "Tomorrow is the wedding, then immediately after you are getting on a plane to Lisbon, where Antonio's brother was nice enough to let you use a house that he owns. You will stay there for two days until the 9th, when you will be flying to Barcelona, and Antonio rented a hotel for you right near the sea, so enjoy that. On the 11th you will fly to Paris, where you will stay until the 16th."

"Paris? Oh merci beaucoup Lovino!" Francis squealed, jumping up to hug the Italian. Said Italian was pinning a map of Europe to the corkboard, instructing Ludwig to place tacks where the couple would be staying.

"Hmm? Get off you bastard i'm not finished yet dammit!" He yelled through a mouthful of pins, huffing indignantly once the Frenchman released him. "Anyway as I was saying before my attack, five days in Paris, before traveling to Corsica. A two day trip through Corsica and north Sardinia, last I checked you owned a home in Corsica so that shouldn't be a problem. Get on a goddamn plane in Sassari, to Roma. Il soggiorno di due giorni a Roma- cosa stai guardando?" He asked crossly when everyone looked at him in confusion.

Ludwig cleared his throat, coughing into his fist. "Jou vere speaking Italian. Could you repeat zhat?"

"Grazie. I said that your two day stay in Roma will end with a plane to London, where you will spend the rest of your honeymoon, returning here on the 27th." He finished, placing the final tack on the map and taking a marker out of his pocket, connecting all of the points and looking at his work with satisfaction. Ludwig handed him a folder that he leafed through, nodding before tossing it at Francis's face. "Here. All the tickets and times, along with locations. Enjoy." Lovino grinned at seeing Francis and Arthur's shocked faces, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Gli ragazzi will be staying with Allen, Matt, and Allistor, i've already arranged everything and told them. I'm honestly surprised that the little devils managed to keep it a secret."

"It iz totally not awesome zhat neizher of jou lovebirds vill be going to Berlin!" Gilbert broke in, bursting into the room and slinging an arm over his little brother's shoulder. Elizaveta followed, her skillet clipped to her belt as usual. "Jou two are so gay! Jou know zhat song Gay or European? Zhat describes jou perfectly!" He felt the need to blurt out.

"Gilbert you bloody idiot every adult in this room except for you and Eliza married another man, I would be surprised if we were anything but." Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Besides, I don't think you're as straight as you claim to be." He teased, raising one thick eyebrow at the German.

"JOU CAN'T CATCH ME GAY THOUGHTS!" Gilbert screamed, running out of the room. "NOT TODAY!"

"I'll go get him." Elizaveta sighed, unclipping the skillet from her belt and walking out in search of the German. A dull clang and high pitched shriek followed by a "NEIN LIZZIE JOU CAN'T DO ZHAT" sounded throughout the house soon after.

"Lovino… Thank you so much. This means so much and thank you so much for such a wonderful honeymoon and for taking the time to plan this." Arthur thanked, standing up and clasping the short Italian's hand with his own.

"Tch, British." Lovino grumbled, before hugging Arthur. "You're marrying into this crazy family, so thank me like one." The Italian and German walked out of the room, Arthur flopping back onto the bed, next to his fiancé. He buried his face in Francis's shoulder, a soft smile spreading on his face as the man he loved kissed the top of his head, holding Arthur in his arms.

~Time skip~

A crisp note reached Arthur's ears from where he was hiding behind a grove of trees, the flute mingling with the sound of a violin as Gilbert and Elizaveta began to play, the music drifting through the early July morning. The Englishman squeezed his eyes shut and rested his forehead against the bark of an old oak, aware of the people outside and the bouquet of flowers he held in his hands. Their families had all come from Europe to see them get married and were waiting in the clearing as Arthur's cue to walk down the aisle approached. A high trill from the flute sounded and Arthur steeled himself, straightening his blue tie, one that perfectly matched the Frenchman's eyes, and stepped out from the trees, beginning to make his way down to where Francis was standing. He took Allistor's arm as they began to walk, smiling softly when he saw his oldest brother trying to hold back tears. Arthur had asked the Scotsman to give him away at the wedding, and Allistor had agreed, answering that it would be his pleasure to help in anyway he could.

There was a sweet smell of iris and rose in the air, the dappled sunlight gleaming off of Francis's golden locks and his lips curling up in a gentle smile, blue eyes beaming. Gilbert stood at his side, playing the flute beautifully, eyes closed in concentration as Elizaveta stood across from him, a violin in her hands. Antonio stood beside Gilbert, his flamenco style strawberry coloured dress matching with his husband's tie. Lovino was sitting in the audience, a content look on his face as he observed the wedding. Gil and Toni had tried to get Arthur to wear a dress but he had furiously vetoed that idea, Antonio instead asking Lovino if he could wear a dress in place of Arthur. Lovino, though grumbling and bitching about the Spaniard's choice in what to wear to a wedding, had sewed and designed the gorgeous dress. Arthur stepped beside Francis, sweeping aside the petals that Alfred had scattered there before with his feet. He blushed softly as Francis lifted his chin with a delicate hand, nearly melting when he saw the overjoyed tears shining in the azure orbs. Ludwig took his spot in between them, clearing his throat and opening his book with the lines.

"Guten Tag everyone." He began to speak, his deep bass voice soothing and steady. He had gotten a certificate online after he had learned of the engagement, knowing firsthand the hassle of getting a minister. "Ve are gathered here today to celebrate zhe union of two unique souls, may zhey find nothing but happiness from zhis marriage. Francis Bonnefoy, do jou take zhis man, Arthur Ignatius Kirkland, to be jour husband?"

"I do." His velvet accented voice was a low murmur in Arthur's ears, those two simple words causing Arthur's heart to swell.

"Arthur Ignatius Kirkland, do you take zhis man, Francis Bonnefoy, to be jour husband?"

"I do." the Brit's voice was surprisingly clear and strong, ringing out to the audience.

"Zhe couple will now read zhe additional vedding vows given to zhem by Arthur's bruder, Patrick Kirkland."

"Arthur, you are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, zat we two might be one. I give you my spirit, `til our life shall be done. You cannon possess me for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you zat which is mine to give. You cannon command me, for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in zose ways you require, and ze 'oneycomb will taste sweeter coming from my 'and." Francis said, his accent shining through the traditional Celtic vows. Arthur had never been particularly close to Patrick, and had nearly cried when the Irishman approached Arthur and Francis, giving them the vows as a suggestion.

"I vow you the first cut of my meat, the first sip of my wine, from this day it shall only your name I cry out in the night, and into your eyes that I smile each morning; I shall be a shield for you back as you are for mine, no shall a grievous word be spoken about us, for our marriage is sacred between us and no stranger shall hear my grievance. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life, and into the next." There was not a dry eye in the audience of friends and family at this point, even Allen and Matt, who were in charge of photographs, could keep back a few tears.

Ludwig paused to blink away tears, and with a proud smile he proclaimed, "Zhen by zhe power vested in me by zhe internet, I now pronounce jou husband und husband! Jou may now kiss zhe Brit." Francis placed his hands on either side of his husband's face and leaned in, connecting their lips in their first kiss as a married couple. Cheers sounded behind them as Francis spun Arthur around, dipping him down, one hand supporting his back while the other held his leg, kissing Arthur passionately. They finally broke apart, Arthur's arms around the Frenchman's neck, foreheads touching and eyes closed in happiness.

"Je t'aime Arthur." Francis breathed out as he straightened up, setting Arthur back onto his feet. Arthur smiled and held up his hand where his wedding band glinted in the light.

"I love you too Fran-"

"JUST THROW YER FOKIN BOUQUET ALREADY!" needless to say, Allistor got a bunch of flowers thrown at about the speed of a fastball to the face and walked around the rest of the day with petals in his hair.

"YAY I HAVE 2 DADS NOW!" Alfred yelled, bursting from his place in the line to hug both males around their legs, Arthur falling onto Francis from the force of the grasp. Matthew followed him, hugging the newlyweds tightly.

"Merci beaucoup Arthur. You made papa happy." he whispered into Arthur's suit, the entire family sinking down into a group hug. "Merci Arthur, for being there for us." Matthew Williams now had his mother out of the picture, two loving dads, and a stepbrother, all who he loved and who loved him in return. As Francis and Arthur took their first dance together, Matthew could only think one thought. Francis and Arthur had finally found someone who loved the other and treasured them like the gift they are. They were finally in love, finally noticed by someone just as special as the other.


End file.
